


ASOIAF Drabbles Part II

by mneiai



Series: mneiai's ASOIAF drabbles [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aegon's Conquest, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Robert's Rebellion, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Book: Fire and Blood, Book: The World of Ice and Fire, Dark Jon Snow, Drabble Collection, Elia Martell Lives, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, House Targaryen, Jon Snow is Called Aemon, M/M, Miscarriage, Multi, Possessive Behavior, Time Travel, just assume the background ship is always elia/lyanna lbh lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-07-10 10:54:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 33,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19904575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai
Summary: A collection of drabbles inspired by the books and/or show. Mostly AU.First chapter has brief summaries of all drabbles.





	1. Index

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a quick index of the drabbles beyond. Like in the first drabble collection in this series, it will include chapter number, a summary, the main ship (if there is one), and the main/notable characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can also navigate through tags at my Tumblr for this series:[asoiafdrabbles](https://asoiafdrabbles.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Please remember there will only be 50 chapters per drabble collection to keep the tags from being ginormous blocks of text. When this reaches 50 Part III will start up.
> 
> Since it keeps coming up, these are the fics off of drabbles/one-shots that I am kinda poking at trying to make something of: [List with Descriptions on my Tumblr.](https://manyangledone.tumblr.com/post/186640522024/asoiafgot-fics-im-working-on)
> 
>  **I am not taking random requests on this fic.** I will delete comments that are requests.

Chapter 2: Rhaenys the Conqueror (no Conquest AU) (Rhaenys/Aegon/Jon)  
Characters: Rhaenys, Aegon, Jon

Chapter 3: A dragon comes for the rebels (dystopian AU) (slight Rhaenys/Jon)  
Characters: Satin, Jon, Rhaenys, Sam

Chapter 4: Rebels come to Aemon to free him from his uncle, the King (Targaryens Win AU) (Gen)  
Characters: Jon, Sansa, Daeron Targaryen (son of Rhaella and Aerys)

Chapter 5: On Dragonstone, Jon comes to realize there are worse things than being a hostage. (GoT AU) (Gen)  
Characters: Jon, Daenerys

Chapter 6: Lyanna is a goddess of Winter who sneaks away to explore the South (Mythology AU) (Rhaegar/Lyanna)  
Characters: Lyanna, Rhaegar

Chapter 7: The blood of the dragon is strong, but that is not always a good thing. (Daenerys/Jon)  
Characters: Jon, Daenerys

Chapter 8: The Bloodstone Emperor was a villain Old Nan's stories. (Time Travel fic)  
Characters: Bloodstone Emperor, Jon

Chapter 9: Sansa thinks Domeric is charming, but there's more to him than meets the eye (Domeric/Sansa)  
Characters: Sansa, Jon, Domeric

Chapter 10: A star falls, and is found. (Gen)  
Characters: OC (founder of House Dayne)

Chapter 11: Jon finally asks about Daario (Dany/Jon/Daario)  
Characters: Jon, Dany

Chapter 12: Rhaegar plots even against his own family. (Elia & Lyanna) (No Rebellion AU)  
Characters: Lyanna, Elia

Chapter 13: Jon is left with no other option. (Cersei/Jon) (GoT AU)  
Characters: Cersei, Jon

Chapter 14: Aegon dashes Aemon's plots and dreams. (Aegon & Jon) (Rhaegar Won AU)  
Characters: Jon, Aegon

Chapter 15: A Baratheon sits on the Iron Throne and Daenerys, Queen of Meereen and the Bay of Dragons, must decide how to move forward.  
Characters: Daenerys, Jon, Barristan

Chapter 16: How Lyanna earns her crown of flowers. (Elia/Lyanna)  
Characters: Lyanna, Elia

Chapter 17: Rhaegar introduces baby Aemon to court. (Aerys & Jon) (Rhaegar Won AU)  
Characters: Rhaegar, Aerys, baby!Jon

Chapter 18: The remaining Starks are united against the Targaryen invaders. (Jon vs Dany) (future fic)  
Characters: Jon, Dany, Drogon

Chapter 19: Prince Aemon is a ward of the Martells. (Jon & the Martells) (Rhaegar Won AU)  
Characters: Jon, Doran, Tyene, Ellaria, Arianne

Chapter 20: Elia is trapped in the Red Keep. (Elia/Lyanna)  
Characters: Elia, Lewyn, Varys

Chapter 21: Elia has raised a good king. (Elia & Jon) (Elia survives the Sack AU)  
Characters: Elia, Jon

Chapter 22: The dragon must have three heads, but Elia cannot have the third. (Elia/Rhaegar/Lyanna)  
Characters: Elia

Chapter 23: Elia loves to make Lyanna blush. (Elia/Rhaegar/Lyanna) (Rhaegar Won AU)  
Characters: Elia, Lyanna, Rhaegar

Chapter 24: Ice or fire. Jon could not be both. (Jon Gen)  
Characters: Jon, Other

Chapter 25: They're writing their own future. (Elia/Lyanna)  
Characters: Elia, Lyanna

Chapter 26: Jon being trueborn does not just create succession issues for the Iron Throne. (Daenerys/Jon)  
Characters: Daenerys, Sansa, Jon

Chapter 27: Elia joins Lyanna in Dorne. (Elia/Rhaegar/Lyanna)  
Characters: Lyanna, Elia, Oberyn, Arthur, Oswell

Chapter 28: The Lord of Light does everything for a reason. (Daenerys/Jon) (Post GoT)  
Characters: Daenerys, Jon, Kinvara

Chapter 29: Jon gets an unexpected job offer after coming back to life. (Jon Gen)  
Characters: Jon

Chapter 30: There must always be a Stark at Winterfell, but the Starks are no more. (Jon & Aegon) (Post canon AU)  
Characters: Jon, Aegon

Chapter 31: Lyanna hears about a potentially perfect husband. (Lyanna Gen)  
Characters: Lyanna

Chapter 32: Jon tries his hand at a honey pot only to realize he's the one that's trapped. (JonCon/Brandon) (Rebellion AU)  
Characters: JonCon

Chapter 33: Jon wakes in an unfamiliar room. (Jon & Aegon)  
Characters: Jon, Aegon

Chapter 34: A beautiful prince, trapped in a tower, waiting for a knight to rescue him. (Aegon/Jon) (fantasy AU)  
Characters: Jon, Aegon

Chapter 35: The kingdoms have finally been set to rights, but now the succession is thrown into question again. (Jon Gen)  
Characters: Jon, Daenerys

Chapter 36: King Aegon refuses all betrothals for his younger brother and even Jon doesn't know why. (Aegon/Jon futurefic)  
Characters: Aegon, Jon

Chapter 37: Elia is getting tired of explaining why it's not bastards who are the problem. (slight Elia/Lyanna) (Rhaegar Won AU)  
Characters: Elia

Chapter 38: Now that Elia knows Jon exists, she'll stop at nothing to bring him back to Dorne. (Elia Lived AU)  
Characters: Elia, Doran

Chapter 39: Ghost gets a new follower. (Jon & Ghost) (Modern AU)  
Characters: Jon, Ghost, Sansa

Chapter 40: Jon falls through time and arrives as Torrhen and Aegon meet.  
Characters: Jon, Ghost, Torrhen, Aegon I

Chapter 41: Two glimpses at Rhaegar and his youngest son. (Rhaegar & Jon) (Rhaegar Won AU)  
Characters: Rhaegar, Jon

Chapter 42: Aemon is the only baby dragon still in the nest. (Elia & Jon) (Rhaegar Won AU)  
Characters: Elia, Jon, Rhaegar

Chapter 43: A Dornish party visits Winterfell.  
Characters: Sarella Sand, Jon Snow

Chapter 44: Aegon did not care how many had to die if it meant keeping Aemon at his side. (Aegon/Jon) (Rhaegar Won AU)  
Characters: Aegon, Jon

Chapter 45: Jon's soulmark comes in and leaves him with more questions than answers. (Oberyn/Jon) (Soulmate AU)  
Characters: Jon, Robb, Theon

Chapter 46: With his firstborn child staring up at him with eyes it shouldn't have, Jon Baratheon's entire world falls apart. (Jon/Margaery) (Nearly Everyone Lives AU)  
Characters: Jon, Margaery, Renly

Chapter 47: The battle is won and plans for the future are being made. (Jon/Satin) (Future Fic)  
Characters: Jon, Satin

Chapter 48: Sequel to Chapter 45. Oberyn's mark is finally clear enough to read. (Oberyn/Jon) (Soulmate AU)  
Characters: Oberyn, Ellaria, Doran

Chapter 49: Prince Aemon gets taken by wildlings. (Tormund/Jon) (Rhaegar Won AU)  
Characters: Jon, Tormund

Chapter 50: Aegon knows immediately that Jon is his brother. (Aegon & Jon) (Vampire AU)  
Characters: Aegon, Jon


	2. Rhaenys/Jon/Aegon Gen (no-Conquest AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaenys the Conqueror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was suggested by EloImJosh. I wanted a Rhaenys/Jon fic to start this off and Rhaenys/Jon/Aegon seemed to work well enough haha
> 
> Dragon names are the same ones I use in [Red Ruins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18795337).

Rhaenys had taken to standing on her favorite balcony, looking out across the sea at the mainland. Every year that went by she felt more and more drawn to it. And this year, finally, it would be hers.

"We have dragons," she insisted to her brothers, "what force do they have that can stand against that?"

Neither had a good answer. Of course they didn't, it was why there were even there, reluctantly dressed in their riding armor. Waiting on her.

"Dorne won't just bow easily, no matter who our mother was," Aegon argued again.

"Why wouldn't they? For Martell blood ruling all of Westeros? Do you think Uncle Doran can't convince them it's for the best?"

"And give up independence?"

"And give up _war_ ," she countered. "To have peace with the marcher lords of the Stormlands."

He frowned, quieting, and she turned to Aemon. Her youngest brother was always quieter, more thoughtful, an emotional copy of their father compared to Aegon, who was his physical copy. But their father was gone and Rhaenys, the eldest, now had command of their House.

"The North...you know they weren't happy about my mother running away to be father's second wife. They certainly won't be happy when they find out I'm your second husband," he pointed out. "But...if you let their culture continue, maybe they'll agree. Andal influence is feared, but seeps in because of the need to trade, especially during winter. That we are Valyrian and have our own gods may help us."

"We must give lipservice to the Seven," she stated, frowning at him. "The gods of Old Valyria have no place in this continent and so it's to the Septs we must show worship, no matter how we feel. But when have those gods listened to our prayers? What have they given us, but isolation and slow death?"

She motioned around them. "There are only five Targaryens left in this world. We may have our dragons, we may have this island and castle, but what have we been left with? What impact will we make?"

Aegon scoffed. "You're not planning to _conquer a continent_ just to go down in history, are you, sister?"

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes. "No, I plan to conquer to _preserve our family_. To create a _dynasty_ so powerful it would take a second Doom to overthrow it."

Sundancer alighted on the edge of the balcony, twisting his body so that she might climb up his wing. Below their small army awaited her on ships, the sigil of a red three-headed dragon on a black expanse, the sigil of her and her brother-husbands, viewable even to her. Their sights were set on the land she had decided she would call the Crownlands--and the point across the bay that would become their capital on the mainland.

"You can choose not to help me, brothers, but can you honestly stand back as I fight all the battles?"

Aegon let out a soft curse, then Rhaenys could see the brief flicker across his face as he summoned his own dragon, Aemon rolling his eyes before doing the same. Soon they were mounting Nymerax and Sonaxes as well.

"Rhaenys the Conqueror, Queen of Westeros," Aegon shouted across the wind and she smirked at him, waving regally. "This better be worth it, sweet sister! We'll never hear the end of it from Uncle Vissy if it's not!"

"Don't fear, little brother! Unlike you, I'm actually good at planning!"


	3. Satin (slight Rhaenys/Jon)(AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dragon comes for the rebels.

They'd been so close to escaping, another few minutes and they would have been free. Instead, they're surrounded by guards, far too many for them to take and survive.

Not that Jon didn't try. They didn't kill him, though, despite Satin flinching away in anticipation of it--maybe they wanted to keep them all alive for questioning or maybe they just wanted to play with him like a cat with prey.

Two guards held his arms and shoulders, forcing him to his knees and that and the knocks and cuts he'd taken from the fight he wasn't getting up on his own any time soon.

When more guards came pouring into the square, it became clear they weren't just going to be taken prisoner--there was something else at play.

The guards parted, letting a slim figure through. It was dressed in black chain and plate, and silk, that hugged the curves of its body tightly. Its gauntlets ended in wicked claws. And upon its face was an ornate mask of black and red, carved and painted into a creature from nightmares.

A dragon had come for them.

Which made sense, Satin realized with a sinking feeling. They'd just disrupted a royal event, sowing more rebellion by showing that the dragons weren't infallible. They must be the throne's number one enemies.

Except the dragon ignored the group as a whole, stalking up to Jon instead. They all tensed, Satin could feel Pip almost shaking with fear beside him

And then, instead of hurting Jon somehow, the dragon took his chin between its claws and forced him to look up at it.

"What mischief are you up to, little brother?"

Satin felt the words like a punch to his gut.

"It's hardly mischief, sweet sister."

The others couldn't stay silent, muttering breaking out from their group. It was Sam that Satin tried to listen for, if anyone knew what was going on it would be him.

He didn't disappoint. "It's Aemon," Sam gasped, near immediately. "Jon, he's the 'missing prince,' Rhaegar's youngest."

Satin shuddered at the mention of Rhaegar, one of the most powerful and feared of the dragons East or West. And then he looked back at Jon and the dragon and remembered the words--sister. 

The dragon before them was Rhaenys. And they were screwed. She had no mercy, no conscience. The dragons were soulless but she, as with her father, took it to another level.

Except...except Satin knew Jon. Aemon. Whatever his name was. And he certainly had a soul. He was one of the most caring people Satin knew, under his cold exterior. 

The mask Rhaenys wore did not cover its mouth and Satin watched in horror as it leaned in and kissed Jon, taking its time with it. Jon did not seem to kiss back, but he was calm, as if being kissed by a dragon, his sister, was no different than breathing.

It pulled back with a smirk, a faint trail of smoke escaping both their mouths. Then it gestured at the group of them, saying something in the language of the dragons too quick for Satin to catch. Suddenly they were being dragged away--except for Jon, who was staring after them in horror, tone pleading as he spoke to his sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU setting where the Targs are basically all powerful and running a fascist empire and the NW are rebels fighting against them. 
> 
> The Targs have fucked with history and education and stuff, so people don't know what Valyrian is anymore or other "basic" info they would have had pre-Targ.


	4. Dearon & Jon (Gen) (Targs Win AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They came to free him, to help him reclaim his stolen throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So while going through the list of Rhaella's kids for A Song of Light & Darkness and was thinking about what Robert's Rebellion would be like if Rhaegar had had an adult brother.

"He took your birthright!"

Aemon stared at the people in front of him, studying their faces. "You don't even know me, why do you care about something like that?"

One of the young women, hair bright red and eyes a blazing blue, stepped closer. "He's a horrible king, he--"

"You don't know what kind of king I'd be, what if I'm worse?"

"Don't you care?!" A boy, now, dark hair, dark blue eyes, large enough to be intimidating and probably one of the ones that took out the guards.

He walked over to the table that held a decanter of wine, pouring a cup for himself, ignoring the way they shifted and tensed. "My uncle has been good to me, he helped raise me. And part of that was knowing that there will always be people who dislike even the best king."

Though Arthur had protested, Aemon had sent him through the secret passage in his room, to gather what forces he could and send word to King's Landing. Now he just had to buy him time.

The redhead scoffed. "Has it ever occurred to you that the man who _stole your throne_ might be lying to you?"

"You know, considering you think I'm the rightful king, you're being quite rude. Who are all of you?" He motioned at the small group that had stayed inside after confirming who he was.

Unsurprisingly, it was the redhead that spoke first. "I am your _cousin_ , Sansa Stark."

He blinked at that, he'd known that they were out there, intellectually, but had never met any family beyond his Uncle Daeron. His father had died in battle, his siblings and grandfather had been killed in the first strike of an unsuccessful invasion of King's Landing. His uncle had been distracted saving the city from the Lannisters, he'd never even known people had snuck into the Keep. 

Or, at least, that's what his uncle told others. In truth, he'd thought they were simply after King Aerys, who they'd needed out of the way if they wanted to preserve the Targaryen dynasty.

"And the rest of you?" They seemed to have been waiting for more of a reaction from him, one he wouldn't be giving.

"Steffon Baratheon," the dark haired young man said.

Two more of them were from Northern Houses, Mormont and Umber, and then a blonde was a Lannister. Rebels, they were all from Houses that had rebelled against his family, in the war that got his parents killed, and yet they thought he'd believe they meant him to be king.

"Why are you here?"

"To free you from your uncle! So that you can reclaim your throne! You were a babe when he took the throne from you, but now you're a man grown!"

Because he was looking for it, Aemon saw the slight movement of one of the tapestries on the side of the room, the one covering the passage. Arthur had returned.

"My grandfather declared him heir after my father died. He stole nothing from me."

He'd given Aemon everything. He'd found his dying mother and saved Aemon from following her, had brought him to Dragonstone to be raised in safety and comfort. They were their only family, besides his namesake at the Wall, and as Uncle Aemon liked to say--a Targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing.

"After everything he did to us, to our family," Sansa Stark tried, her imploring look probably one that won over many men, "how can you simply let him keep power? We were the ones that were wronged, but we were the ones who were punished. The North was decimated by him after the war, the only reason our family wasn't slaughtered was because we'd held our kingdom for so long it would be impossible to replace us."

Aemon took a sip of his wine, contemplating the group. They were armed, but not expecting much of a fight. They were passionate, but in that fanatical way that could make people delusional.

"I suppose if you're making me leave, I should finish dressing," he mused to them, moving to the back of the room, where his wardrobe rested, as if going to do just that.

It put most of the space, and not a few pieces of furniture, between them all. A few moments after his shadow passed across the tapestry, the room was filling with Targaryen guards, Arthur among them.

Watching dispassionately, Aemon was startled when someone gripped his shoulder. Twisting, he stared up into the lilac eyes of his uncle, who seemed to be inspecting him for any signs of hurt. Other than a few bruises from the initial conflict, though, and the wounded pride of being disarmed by such a motley group, he was fine.

"You'll be moved to the Red Keep," the King informed him, watching the guards tying up the still-living among the invaders. "We don't know how they got onto the island, let alone this far into the castle. Dragonstone isn't safe."

Aemon's shoulders slumped, just a little, before he caught himself and stood up straight again. "Court life?"

Daeron chuckled. "It's only slightly more dangerous than this. You'll survive."

"I didn't expect you to be here."

"As soon as we got wind of the plan, I came. I won't let them take you, Aemon, they took everyone else but they won't get you." 

His grip tightened, bruising, but Aemon didn't protest. He knew his uncle was terrified, underneath his Kingly mask. 

"Thank you, uncle. They're mad, they wanted to use me against you. Who knows what else they'd do to me?"

Daeron's lips pressed against the back of his head, his other arm wrapping around Aemon's waist and holding nearly as tight. "You're safe," he whispered, too low for the guards still milling around to hear, though they'd know better than to comment on it. "You're safe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After Rhaegar fell, Daeron was made heir instead of Viserys. He let some of the Lannister men into the city/Keep thinking they were just after Aerys and so partially blames himself for Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon being killed.


	5. Jon & Daenerys (Gen) (GoT AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Dragonstone, Jon comes to realize there are worse things than being a hostage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like half my GoT AU fics basically boil down to "what if people weren't complete idiots about X subject?"

Jon thought of Theon often, as he tried to hide his discomfort at being the Dragon Queen's hostage. Dragonstone itself was not a problem, if anything, Jon actually found himself liking it there, but it was the lack of free movement, the knowledge anything he sent or received was read, not even being allowed his weapons....

He couldn't imagine if were were but a boy, his family just killed, forced to travel to some unknown land nothing like his own. What must Theon have thought, growing up there? He'd never been kind to Jon, but perhaps that was a blessing, because Jon did not have to feel bad about his situation, then, even if he could emphasize with it now.

The Queen was certainly no Ned Stark. She did nothing to make him feel welcome, nothing to make him feel less like a prisoner.

If anything, the way she watched him sometimes, the way she spoke to him as if prodding for his secrets, made it worse. And every encounter just seemed to aggravate it, especially if they involved her dragons (it was hardly his fault if the dragons didn't seem to think he was as much of an enemy as she did).

And now, as if to add to his humiliation, she sent him clothing to wear and orders to dinner with her. There was no pattern to it, it could be every day for a sennight or not at all, and everything in between.

"Jon," she said, across the table, and he looked up at her until he realized, oddly, she wasn't actually addressing him. "Jon...it's such a plain name, isn't it?"

He frowned, unsure where the conversation was going. "I was named after Jon Arryn, my father's foster father."

"So Ned Stark named you? Not your mother?"

Scowling, Jon wondered what Daenerys' fascination with his mother was. Hers and all of her people's, it was starting to feel like.

"Yes, my father named me."

She gave a slow, knowing smile and he felt like there was something he was missing. 

"Rhaegal is quite fond of you. I named him, you know, after my brother, Rhaegar."

Jon narrowed his eyes. "I know."

"I would have named my son after him, as well. Rhaego. I wonder what _your_ mother would have named you, if she'd been able to." Again with the sly look.

"Queen Daenerys, whatever is going on, just come out and say it! What can I possibly do with whatever information it is that you have? I'm a prisoner here, it's not like I can spread it."

Daenerys stopped smiling. "You're not a prisoner."

At that, Jon couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped him. "No? So I'm not followed by your guards wherever I go? I'm allowed freedom to communicate with the North without anyone censoring my ravens? I'm free to leave, right now, to collect my men and our property and sail away?"

He didn't like the look on her face, worried that he'd gone to far for her fiery temper.

"You are followed by guards for your own protection. Your ravens are censored for the same reason. You have grown up surrounded by lies, I can only imagine what more the Starks would feed you if given the chance. You--"

"What--"

"Do _not_ interrupt me." She glared. "You could leave, if you chose to, and if I knew you would not be putting yourself in danger in doing so."

"This makes no sense. Why do you care about my welfare?"

Now Daenerys leaned in, that sly look reappearing. "Because I know who your mother is. _And your father_." His eyes widened. "And I will not have my _nephew_ remain a Northern pawn."

Jon's mind raced. There was only one way he could be her nephew and look as he did, appear as a Stark for all to see. But that did not lead to pleasant thoughts, it was not anything he'd ever wanted. 

"That's not possible."

"You see? They have you so twisted around that even the obvious truth seems impossible to you. Why would Ned Stark never tell you who your mother was? And not offer to until after you took the vows of the Night's Watch?" He regretted, now, revealing that in a moment of anger, when her probing questions had needled him too much. "Why would my dragons react as they do to you? Why would Rhaegal adore you so?"

"There's...my mother must have been dragonseed, somehow....A Crownlander my father found during the war or...or...."

"I will protect you, even if you don't realize you need that protection. I will keep you safe here, in our ancestral home, where you belong."

_No. Nonono. This wasn't possible. This couldn't be true._

Daenerys stood, smirking down at him. "Your guards will escort you back to your room. I know you need time to realize I speak the truth, nephew."

_No,_ he wanted to scream at her. _No, you're wrong._

Except that something held him back, a sinking feeling inside like this nightmare...might be true.


	6. Rhaegar/Lyanna, Rhaegar & Jon (mythology AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyanna was a creature of Winter.

Lyanna was a creature of Winter, it lived in her bones, flowed from her being. Each flurry, each icicle, came about through her careful tending of the season. When the nights grew longer and the crops rested, she shone, running through the woods with giggling nymphs at her heels, dancing with the gentle moon above.

She was a creature of Winter, but Winter was as much Change as any season. And she wanted _more_. When Winter ended and her job was finished for months, for years, she yearned for something to truly fill her time.

And so she ventured South, South into the lands where gods such as her had been killed off long ago. South to the lands where Winter had little power.

There she discovered so many things, so many bright flowers and active animals. She delighted in each new discovery, though her heart belonged to Winter.

Her delight was not unobserved. For a creature of Fire and Heat had felt the coming of a daughter of Winter and been drawn to the chill. It had never known a true Winter and its curiosity matched hers.

Rhaegar watched the goddess dance and play, watched her sing and laugh, and he could not stop himself from approaching.

At first, Lyanna was fearful--for she was far from home and her power was so much less in Summer, but Rhaegar proved he was not to fear. He played sweet music for her ears, taught her the names of the plants and creatures that interested her, and showed her more of the South than she had ever dreamed.

When Winter was nearing, they parted reluctantly, Lyanna promising to visit once more when her task was complete.

But when she returned to the North, she found many displeased with her. They had heard of her exploits on the winds and from the babbling rivers. They forbid her from returning when she tried to leave again.

Instead of Spring and the return of the goddess who had captured his heart, Rhaegar instead found that Winter came twice that season. 

At first he despaired, sure that Lyanna had lied to him. And then, slowly, he learned the story of the North. Of the goddess locked away.

Of the child that she had born, of a frost-blue rose in the moment of the False Spring.

His rage boiled oceans and shook mountains from their molten cores.

Snow, they called her son, _his_ son, and bound him further to the North than even his mother.

And Rhaegar, refusing to be helpless, refusing to give up, called upon the other Southern gods of Fire, and Heat, and Light. Of Summer and Growth. They would not go North for his beloved, not even for his child, a child of the South. But they would go for power.

So he offered them the plan, to burn the Northern forests so that they might regrow. To heat the Northern lands so that snow might never settle in the Summer. To claim that territory that had been missing from their own for too long.

It worked. The Northern gods were unprepared and at the height of Summer their power was weak. The Northern forests were reborn as theirs. The Northern people bowed to their wills. And the long nights and cold winds were pushed further and further away.

Not until he found his beloved did Rhaegar realize what he'd done--for Lyanna was a creature of Winter. A goddess of the North. And as the fires raged through her lands, killing off her Season, so too did it kill her.

She died in his arms, crying for their child, for he was bound to Snow and Winter, too.

Though he wished to stay with her, Rhaegar fled further North, trying to beat even his own forces as he searched. 

And, as with the mother, Rhaegar found the boy as he lie dying, too weak to carry on. Rhaegar clutched the child he'd never known and weeped upon him, tears as red as blood pouring from his eyes, alighting the child's body in fire.

But the fire did not destroy it, even as Rhaegar tried, for the first time he could recall, to put it out. Instead, he watched as the ice left his child's eyes and the night left his hair, and he awoke, burning as brightly as Rhaegar ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I started writing a Persephone/Hades AU for Jon because lol and then I realized how well it might work for Rheagar/Lyanna, but then also realized I could work in some of the more canon-y aspects. Except I decided I didn't want Rhaegar to give his life for Jon which I had originally planned because I decided to not be completely awful to Jon for once lol


	7. Daenerys/Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The blood of the dragon is strong, but that is not always a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: Miscarriage and slight body horror
> 
> Also, I started using my Tumblr a little bit again if anyone wants to hit me up there (manyangledone)

"My baby," Daenerys gasped, trying to at once cruel into herself against the pain and reach out for the bundle a midwife was wrapping.

Jon was grimacing off to the side, he'd seen what had come out of her--the same as their last two attempts, even if the features might be different: twisted with scales, wings, a tail, lacking eyes or limbs...none of them a human babe. He had gone numb to the horror of it, had closed himself off to it and stopped even hoping, but Daenerys had never managed to.

"Please, my baby!"

"Dany, it's...it didn't survive."

She squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering, and Jon thought that again she might be making plans of who she would need to remove, who would need to be quietly killed. Someone, she'd claimed before, had to be doing this to them. She reached out for Jon, pulling him against her, frantically hissing in his ear.

"We'll...we'll go to Essos for the next one. We'll be safe there, surrounded by truly loyal people."

Jon's shoulders slumped, his hand petting her hair as he watched the midwives moving around them. Daenerys had forbid a maester, this time, had a separate kitchen with guards constantly watching the cooks prepare everything that passed through their lips. Each time this happened she found a new way to blame others, a new excuse to try again. Ever since she'd discovered she _could_ still get pregnant she'd decided he'd been right, that the witch had been lying.

All their attempts had done had convinced Jon that he'd been wrong. Or that it was them, the two of them, that the blood of the dragon should not mix again. But no one else had ever gotten Daenerys pregnant since her first and she'd decided he was the reason she still could. She refused to let him go, to try with anyone else.

She'd already made it clear she'd kill whoever he wandered to, if he tried with anyone besides her. And even if he wanted to...the knowledge it could be his seed as much as Daenerys' womb causing these deformities held him back.

"Dany...we shouldn't. You...you were so sick. It's not worth it, to kill yourself for...."

"For our child? How can you say that, Jon!"

" _You_ aren't worth dying for another--"

"Another monster?" she pushed him away, screaming for everyone else to leave the room, and they knew better by now than to protest.

***

It felt like all of her control was stripped away after each unsuccessful birth, that every time her body brought forth another inhuman, dead child she couldn't think straight. She could have a child, she _wanted_ one. She wanted everything that had been stolen from her and she would have it.

She couldn't just give up. That was the different, had always been the difference, between herself and Jon. She wasn't content with what she had, she wanted everything she deserved.

A child with silver hair and grey eyes. A family with a Targaryen child raised happily, with doting parents, as the prince or princess it deserved to be. Everything she and Jon had been denied.

"Dany." 

Jon was speaking again, maybe had been speaking for awhile as her thoughts drifted. The pain from the birthing was extraordinary each time, as if those twisted bodies couldn't quite fit out of her.

Her poor babies. The maesters had claimed they wouldn't know, wouldn't be aware of what was happening to them, but she always wondered. This last one had moved, had shifted inside of her like some wyrm under her skin, making her sick far into the pregnancy. 

"It's what I want," she whispered, finally, holding her empty belly. "To try again. To keep trying."

Her eyes narrowed, dark thoughts flitting through her head again as she watched him. "And if I die for the attempt, then you're free of me, you can go marry another and have your perfect, human babes."

"Daenerys! You know I don't _want_ that. I want you. I'd love to have a child with you. I just...."

She thought of the little bundle they'd taken from her after the first time, of its twisted body, the scales along its side and little points poking from its back like half-formed wings. She'd been devastated. And reminded too clearly of Rhaego.

They were blood of dragons, _she_ was the Mother of Dragons...was it the magic inside of her, that had gotten her the throne and her love, that was betraying her now? Maegor's babes had looked like hers, they whispered, and spoke of her own crimes, her own failings, now in light of his. Kinslaying chief among them, though it had not been her hands or order that had executed Viserys. 

"Is this just another curse? From that-that witch or the gods themselves?"

"It could not be, Dany. This is just...it's...Sam thinks it's us."

Her eyes narrowed. "Does he?" Samwell Tarly was great friends with Jon, but she had never liked him much, had always wondered if he did not plot against her thinking his dear friend would be better off without her.

"...There's accounts, at the Citadel...theories that we're not," Jon grimaced and she knew now he took it seriously, as that was the look he always wore when speaking of the truth of his Targaryen blood, "fully human."

Daenerys stared at him for a moment and then couldn't help it--she started to laugh. It hurt her core, that damaged place inside of her from the birth, but she could not stop. Not until his arms were around her, not until the sound twisted and changed into sobs.

The thing that made them special, that made them better than the others around them and more deserving to rule...of course that would be their torment in the end.

"We'll try again," she said, a third time, in case he'd thought he'd change her mind. "We'll go to Essos, we'll monitor everything we eat, everything we drink, everything we touch. The red priests will pray and watch their flames for us. We _will_ have a child. Our ancestors were doing so for thousands of years of dragon blood, _we_ will do the same."

He didn't state his agreement, but she knew he'd concede. He wanted a child, too, as much as he deluded himself into thinking he didn't. And he understood that family could be worth any risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a fic where Dany and Jon go to Old Valyria off of Aerea's journey and one of the possibilities for why Dany ends up dying as Aerea did was pregnancy and I'd always thought of exploring that more. There are multiple cases of Targaryen babies coming out with features of dragons and firewyrms and the Targaryens themselves have claimed they're more than human and actually share blood with the dragons (like, it's not just a saying lol). Plus we know the Valyrians got into really horrific human-animal hybrid experiments. 
> 
> I put the initial part in Jon's POV because when I tried for Dany's it was like too much birthing gore for me so yeah.


	8. Bloodstone Emperor & Jon (Time travel AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bloodstone Emperor was a villain Old Nan's stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, so the Church of Starry Wisdom was probably started by the Bloodstone Emperor and if you've read The Haunter of the Dark you can probably guess why I decided on some of the stuff in this lol
> 
> Anyway, the Bloodstone Emperor fucking fascinates me. Like most of the outright Lovecraftian stuff in the books. I want to do more with the Starry Wisdom and probably will eventually, but here's this so far.

The Bloodstone Emperor favored Jon and Jon, having learned to make the most of such things, did what he could to keep that favor. Somewhere right now, in this time, Arya was looking for a way to kill the Emperor and Sam was looking for ways to stop the first Long Night from ever starting, in case that didn't work.

Jon...Jon was technically a spy. But he knew he was more like a distraction. The palace had responded to him, somehow, its magic sensing his blood, and the Emperor had taken an immediate interest.

That, somehow, his Stark coloring on mostly-Valyrian features had made him look like he could easily be related to the Emperor didn't hurt. Sam found the whole thing fascinating, whenever they managed to meet he'd speak of all the theories of Valyria's founding and the connection to the Great Empire, but Jon didn't care to listen.

If this man was one of his ancestors, Jon would have been better off never knowing. It was worse than knowing the blood of Aegon the Unworthy flowed through him. Worse than knowing of all the people his ancestors had subjugated and murdered, of the slavery of Old Valyria. 

The Bloodstone Emperor was like a villain from Old Nan's stories.

And the Emperor gave Jon a royal suite, clothed him in the finest ornate robes, assigned him servants for his every need. Watched him, constantly, those unnerving red eyes following the flow of his movement as if soaking him in.

Jon wanted to write it off as the Emperor's narcissism, that of course he'd be intrigued by someone who looked so much like him, but he knew there was more to it. Magic leaked through the palace, from the Emperor himself, like black ooze when Jon closed his eyes. Neither he nor Arya could warg here, the first times they'd tried something _else_ had almost found them and followed the connection back to _their_ minds. 

And the Emperor was somehow a part of that. He was a predator that even Ghost couldn't match. He had power even Melisandre could not pretend to conceive.

"It's not a stone, you know," the Emperor murmured to Jon as he guided him deeper into the church.

Already Jon's skin was crawling and his instincts were screaming at him to _leave-run-get out_. But the Emperor gripped his arm and it was so unheard of for the Emperor to touch another that Jon didn't dare risk the offense of pulling away from him.

"What isn't?" he managed.

"The black stone." 

Jon swallowed. Sam had told him of it, of the stone that had fallen from the sky. A greasy black stone, the complete opposite of what Dawn had been made from.

"Everyone calls it a black stone."

"It's made out of black stone, that is true. The makers have been here before, and will be here again, and they leave gifts for those who know of them. Starry wisdom to fill our minds with truths that no others of this world could hope for."

"The makers?" 

The Emperor chuckled, the sound echoing through the empty spaces of the church. They were alone here and Jon couldn't remember how he'd come to agree to that. There was a blankness in his mind, a hole where _something_ must have happened.

"If it's not a stone, what is it?"

A pillar stood in the center of the room, something dark and horrible set upon it. Jon's skin crawled, shivers wracking his body. _Run-run-run._

The Emperor's grip tightened. "It's a box."

Such words shouldn't mean much, but something about them filled Jon with even greater horror. A box had something in it. A box had contents that he _did not want to see_.

"My Emperor, I thank you for the honor of your company, but perhaps we should return to the central palace now?" 

"My dear descendant, did you truly think you could come here and stop me?" 

Jon jerked his arm, trying to escape the Emperor's hold, but his hand tightened once again, and he held firm, stronger than dragon claws. 

"You know?"

"I've always known. How could I not?" Those red eyes were _burning_ into Jon's and it hurt, tears starting to stream down his face from the pain. "Shh, you'll see, you'll see the truth and you'll thank me for it. You'll help me for their cause." He was dragging Jon now towards the box, not slowed by any of his struggles.

"No, no, let me go, we'll go home, just let us go."

"You came here for a purpose, Aemon Targaryen, you wished to know what had started your 'Long Nights'. And now I, out of the goodness of my heart, am offering you that knowledge. Will you truly throw that back in my face?"

He'd never given the Emperor that name. Had never told him, or anyone else, why they'd come back in time. 

They'd never had a chance. The Emperor had known from the start. He'd been _playing with them_.

" _Please_ , I don't want to know."

A hand--with claws that had simply been long nails moments before--gripped his neck and pulled Jon closer to the Emperor. His eyes seemed to spiral as Jon watched, the whole room spinning around them. 

"But I want you to know, dear descendant. I want you to carry this knowledge back to your time. Too much has been lost and you, you'll find it once more. You're the perfect vessel."


	9. Sansa/Domeric, Jon & Domeric (AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa thinks Lord Domeric is charming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is somewhat in the same verse as the drabble in Part I were Roose finds a young Jon running away from home and takes him in as a companion for Domeric/weapon against the Starks.

Sansa only had vague memories of her bastard brother--he'd been there when she was younger and she remembered he'd always play with her, even when Robb got bored or claimed her games was too girly. But she didn't really remember what his personality was. She hadn't even remembered what he'd looked like, though as he rode in near the front of the party, it was impossible not to know who he was--he really did look like a younger version of their father. Maybe a little prettier, though.

So she was a little nervous when she finally got the chance to approach him. He seemed cold, standoffish, though half of that might be her mother glaring at him (and, really, Jon Snow was a knight! he surely wasn't anything like the bastards the Septa and mother always spoke of).

She felt a little relief when he smiled, just a little, when he noticed her. "Hello, Sansa. Is this when you normally pray? I'm sorry for intruding." 

He moved to stand, but she quickly waved him down. "Please, stay. I was looking for you, actually, so I hope _I'm_ not intruding."

Jon frowned, his confusion clear on his face. "Looking for me?"

And now she felt bad, because although Robb and Arya had written to Jon, she rarely had. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd heard from him personally in some way, not just from second hand accounts of letters her father or siblings received. 

"Yes, I...I wanted to ask your opinion on Lord Domeric."

The little spark of hope she hadn't noticed until it died made her feel even worse. "Ah, yes, well, I know nearly everything by this point. I've been fostered with him for half my life."

"That's why I thought you might be the expert." She gave him a shaky smile. "He seems...very nice."

"I suppose 'nice' is a way of putting it. Dom's a true knight, he'll make a good lord."

She licked her lips, shifting her weight from one foot to the next. "And does he have a lady he's interested in?"

The way Jon's eyebrows rose, Sansa thought he'd guessed why she was asking. And why wouldn't she? There was some old prejudices against the Boltons, she knew, but Lord Bolton had always been polite and Lord Domeric seemed like a true Southron knight, kind and gallant. 

"Doesn't you mother want you married South?"

Her heart stuttered. "Does she? Did you hear something?" Were her parents already planning a betrothal for her?

"Well, everyone knows, Sansa. You've been raised as a Southron lady, not a Northern one."

"Oh." She felt a sinking feeling as that sunk in, because it was true, wasn't it? "...Would that be a problem for Lord Domeric?"

Jon grimaced and looked away, clearly thinking through his answer. When he looked back, his face was earnest, just like father's often was when they spoke. 

"Domeric didn't show any interest in Southron girls. And the Dreadfort is no place for a delicate lady. You'd have to prove you can be more than that, to win his heart, though his father might agree to a betrothal to bind the Starks and Boltons together and just keep you around as an ornament with no real responsibilities."

Even though it was a hypothetical situation, Sansa felt a little outraged at the insinuation that Lord Bolton might think her useless. "So there's no chance?"

"I didn't say that. Just...maybe you should start speaking with more of the Northern ladies. If you can act like them, if you can start following the Old Gods, you'll have a chance."

She smiled, nodding. She could do that, how hard could it be?

***

Jon looked up as Domeric sauntered into his guest room, looking exhausted. "You're lucky not to have to deal with all these lords. No wonder my father was happy I was home to act as his representative for this."

"You can't fool me, Dom, I know you enjoy messing with them."

He received a secretive smile in return. "Well...they do make it so easy."

"Speaking of easy pickings, Sansa came to speak to me about you."

"Oh?"

"She's a romantic at heart and you're a knight, of course she's interested."

"The Dreadfort will surely drive her mad, but it would make father happy." Domeric looked over his shoulder, smirking towards Jon. "Another claim on Winterfell, if Lord Stark is foolish enough to give it to us."

"Of course he will be, he'll do anything his trueborn children ask him to do," Jon scoffed, the old anger surging. "They'll make all the excuses about how you're _nothing_ like your father and gladly accept it."

Domeric chuckled and nodded. "It sounds like we both have our work for this meeting. Hopefully neither of us disappoint father." 

They both shuddered at that, too familiar with the punishments that could await them. No, they would do exactly as was expected of them--Domeric would convince the North that he was harmless compared to his father, alleviating any issues they had with the Boltons, and Jon would make sure a betrothal was on the table before they left. The North would have never noticed all the warning signs by the time Roose made his move.


	10. Founder of House Dayne (Gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A star falls and is found.

"Dayne!" 

He didn't turn back, no matter the fear in their voices. He couldn't.

This stone called to him, had drawn him across continents to this very place and now it was so, so close.

The waters raged around him but he pushed on. He would not, could not, give up. Land was so close. Land and the stone.

Far away, in his homeland, his uncle even now plotted death and destruction. Dayne would not simply sit back and allow it. His mother would have fought, had fought, until her accursed younger brother killed her. She could have been the greatest Empress they'd ever known, if only she'd been given the chance. And Dayne had dedicated his entire life to this, to stopping him and finally allowing her soul to rest.

The dreams had been true, everything they'd faced on their journey, every path they took. Across deserts, across the sea, up this river, and now...this. All leading to this place. This moment.

This stone that glowed a brilliant white under the dark sky, defiant against the night.

The exact opposite of what his uncle had found. The key to defeating him and finally wrenching the Great Empire from his grasp. His black magics, his necromancy, the dreadful, inhuman creatures he made his deals with--all of that would end.

"You shall free us from the night," he muttered, as he finally reached it, finally _touched_ it. "And bring Dawn back to this world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Dawn is almost certainly connected to the Long Night and the fact it's made from a glowy white stone that fell from the sky and the Bloostone Emperor who may have started the first Long Night worshipped a dark stone that fell from the sky has always made it seem like the two are connected. There's a theory that the Valyrians are descendants from people who left Yi-Ti (Dany's one vision with people with all different, unnatural colored eyes can be traced to different Emperors/Empresses) and also lots of theories about how the Daynes could be related, since they have Valyrian features but came to Westeros basically pre-history.


	11. Jon/Dany/Daario

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finally asks about Daario.

"Don't mind Daario, he's just jealous," Daenerys whispered in Jon's ear, her lips brushing his skin making him shudder.

"Why?"

"He and I used to be lovers, he still wishes we were."

Jon glanced again at the man who had taken to glaring at him, looking him up and down. Not bad looking, and a fine fighter from what he'd seen.

"Why did you stop being lovers?"

She gave a little frown, he could see it out of the corner of his eyes. "I needed to wed, of course."

"Aren't you the one always saying dragons can do what they please?" Jon teased.

"And I also know dragons are possessive creatures, would you really be willing to watch me come and go from another man's bed?"

Jon looked over Daario once more, giving the man a polite nod that obviously confused him, then shot Daenerys a smirk. "Why couldn't we use my bed?"

Her eyes widened a moment, then softened. "Oh, dear, I think those free folk corrupted you more than any of us knew. Did my Northern dragon just suggest that?"

"Why not? If you still want him, and he's amenable, it could be fun." He shrugged. "Besides, I'd rather not have more enemies than I need to."

Daenerys settled back into her own chair and waved Daario over. The feast was winding down, after all, and they had the whole night before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More polyships, less triangles! lol


	12. Lyanna & Elia (Gen) (No Rebellion AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaegar plots even against his own family.

She slammed into someone and almost fell over--the other person did. It was only when Lyanna wiped away her tears and hurriedly went to help them, apologizing, that she realized it was Elia.

Elia is an equally distraught state.

"You've heard? It's horrible! How could he do this to us?" She couldn't stop herself from speaking, clinging to Elia's wrist.

They'd never been particularly close, not that Lyanna blamed her. The second wife, and one so much younger, was never meant to be part of the first wife's social circle. But in this she thought she'd understand.

Elia seemed out of sorts for a moment and Lyanna wondered if she'd jarred something when she hit into her. The Queen had always been of a delicate constitution.

"You're...crying over Rhaegar's plan, as well?"

"Yes! My poor Aemon!" Lyanna imagined her toddling babe back in the nursery, who had no idea what treachery his father was up to.

"You...." Elia trailed off, staring off into space for a moment, and then she grabbed Lyanna's arm and with surprising strength dragged her off into a nearby alcove. "It had to have been your father who convinced him, you realize?"

Lyanna flinched. "I told him not to! I told them both not to!"

"Is it any surprise for a man like your father to want his grandson to be king?"

"For a fool like my father," Lyanna hissed out, still remembering her first, disastrous betrothal and Brandon's, too. "The only other times the North has power in the South is when we have our armies upon its lands. I will not have my son chained to the Iron Throne!"

She froze, realizing what she'd just said, and blushed. "I'm sorry, Elia, I just meant...."

"Oh, no, it's fine. Court life...isn't for everyone." Elia had stopped crying, by now, and there was a strength to her stance and determination in her eyes that Lyanna admired. "Don't worry, sister, we'll fix this. If Rhaegar thinks he can play with our children's lives so cruelly, we'll make him see how wrong he is."

Her dark eyes narrowed and for a moment Elia looked every bit as dangerous as her brother Oberyn ever did. Which was good, Lyanna decided, because they'd need to be dangerous to beat Rhaegar at one of his own games. 

Lyanna wouldn't let _her_ son be the next Aegon II, she certainly wouldn't let others claim he stole a throne that he wouldn't even want. Someday, when he was grown, Aemon would be just a prince far down the line of succession after, gods' willing, a large number of nephews, and he'd have freedom to travel, to learn, whatever he wanted. Rhaegar wouldn't take that away from him.


	13. Cersei/Jon (GoT AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is left with no other choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GoT shot a few scenes that didn't actually happen to throw people off and one of them is Jon and Cersei in a room in the Red Keep and I always wished we'd gotten to see them interact lol

"You have no right to the throne compared to Daenerys--not through blood, not through conquest." Jon continued on before Cersei could say more, "But I do. I'm a trueborn Targaryen, the last son of Prince Rhaegar."

He watched Cersei pause, her eyes widening. She may be delusional and not half as smart as she thought she was, but she wasn't a complete idiot, at least not in this.

"But isn't she your Queen? You so sweetly announced your allegiance to her in the Dragonpit, throwing my offer back in my face."

Jon scowled, glancing away. It was no act, the anger that those memories brought to the surface.

"She only sees me as a threat now. Nothing I say has changed that. She'll kill me at the first chance she gets, too paranoid to see how wrong she is."

Cersei pondered that, cocking her head to the side, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. "Ah, but what of your dear...cousin...Sansa? Surely she doesn't appreciate you speaking with me."

This time Jon outright scoffed. "She wants me dead even more than Daenerys does. She wants to be Queen in the North and needs me out of the way. She's the one who has been spreading the word of my parentage."

Nodding, Cersei stalked closer to Jon, seemingly no longer concerned of the physical threat he represented. They'd taken his sword when he'd turned up, but anyone could kill without a sword if they wanted to badly enough.

"Daenerys Targaryen is mad, dangerous, and we're both threats to her claim." Cersei smirked at him, sauntering closer still, and he thought if she'd been slightly younger and significantly less evil, she would have even been seductive in that moment. "I have the physical throne, you have the Targaryen claim to it...if we were to wed....

"Exactly. What could she hope to do? I bring the North and our Allies along with me. Nearly all of Westeros aligned against her."

"And the Northmen?"

"Want peace and somehow still hate Targaryens more than Lannisters after everything." She chuckled and he continued on, "They're scared of her dragon, of her foreign soldiers. Of what savage ways she'll bring with her. You may be an enemy, but you're a Westerosi enemy."

"Mm, yes, I'm not at all surprised. The North was never the most...forward thinking kingdom. And your cousin?"

Jon shut his eyes for a moment, reminding himself of the things he'd found out about Sansa and her plotting. "...Will always be a problem. She wants to be a Queen, it's all she's ever wanted, and with Baelish filling her mind with his manipulations for so long...."

Cersei wrinkled her nose, nodding. "Yes. Such a shame, she was a lovely girl when she was younger." She circled him, her eyes roving over his body. "Jon Targaryen doesn't exactly have the right ring to it."

"My parents named me Aegon, after my brother."

"...Unfortunate. But no one needs to know that, I'm sure. Let's go with...Jaehaerys."

He wasn't sure why just renaming himself hadn't occurred to him before. "That works. A positive name."

Stopping in front of him, Cersei ran her hands over his chest, up his shoulders, smiling. The expression softened her face, made her look younger.

"I knew I was always meant to marry a Targaryen."

Jon knew he had no other choice left to him, not with Daenerys and Sansa breathing down his neck, but that wouldn't make this anymore pleasant.


	14. Jon & Aegon (Rhaegar Won AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aegon dashes Aemon's plots and dreams.

Aemon all but ran through the hallways towards the throne room. He'd taken the time to have the servants dress him in formal court attire, knowing he would need to appear perfect, and every lost minute had filled him with ever growing dread.

Returning from a hunt with a few Crownland heirs to find that his brother had arrested half of his household had not been something he was ready for.

He slowed down just before reaching the family entrance, making sure his clothing was in order. The herald announced him at his nod and he strode in, approaching the throne and going into a deep bow.

He could just see some of his people off to the side, shackled, guards bristling around them, but he couldn't let Aegon think that he had attention for anyone but him.

"Your majesty, I came as soon as I heard the dire news."

"Arise, brother."

Their eyes locked, Aegon's were sharp with a dark pleasure that sent shivers down Aemon's spine. "Please, my king, whatever accusations were placed against my household, they cannot be true. They are mostly of the North and their honor--"

"Honor can be bought and sold quite easily, even among Northmen," Aegon interrupted lazily.

Around them the court was shifting, boiling over with interest in this latest drama. Aemon doubted any of them knew more than he did.

"I have been brought proof that members of your household were plotting against me. Against our family." Aegon motioned to the side and Lord Varys stepped forward.

"Quite dreadful business, my prince, but we found maps of the Holdfast, lists of guard schedules and movements, and quite an interesting array of poisons."

Varys' face gave away nothing, but Aegon's was still clearly pleased to anyone who knew him. _Planted,_ Aemon thought, dizzily, _they waited until I was away for a few days and they struck. But why?_

"My king, I assure you, I know nothing of these--"

"There is no doubt in our mind, brother, that you are innocent. These traitors took advantage of your kind heart. They will be punished for their crimes against us." Cries, denials, until the guards beat his friends and servants into silence, making Aemon feel sick to his stomach. "And I will be providing loyal replacements, ones that will not betray you."

_Oh_. Aemon's eyes widened and as if to acknowledge his sudden insight, Aegon tilted his head in a nod. He'd never planned anything more than escaping, of fleeing the tyranny of Westeros and settling as a nobody in Essos. But now even those dreams were lost to him.

His brother had taken control of their family before their father had drawn his last breath and any challenge to that control would always be answered.

Aemon bowed again, because it was expected of him, and because he hoped playing this as Aegon wanted would lessen whatever 'punishment' his household received. "That is most generous of you, my king."

"You are my little brother, I will always take care of you." His tone was flippant, but Aemon knew the true meaning, knew the threat underneath it.

He mentally cursed Rhaenys, if she had just told him she was planning on running, if she'd given him the chance to join her, he wouldn't be all-but collared and leashed now. The last he'd heard she was in Volantis, living comfortably as the blood of Old Valyria, but the huge bounty Aegon had placed on her kept her moving too often for him to know for sure.

Aegon dismissed the court, and the guards with their prisoners, but not Aemon. Instead he walked down the steps of the Iron Throne until he was right in front of him and grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"You're my brother,," he said, softly enough that no listeners would hear. "My family, my heir, _mine_. When I find our sister, she will never step foot outside of the Maidenvault again. Is that the fate you want for yourself?"

"N-no, Aegon, I don't. I swear I'm loyal to you, I--"

"And yet you still planned to leave me, didn't you? To runaway to _her_ and leave me all alone?"

His eyes widened and he shook his head as much as he could. "No, that wasn't--"

"I love you, little brother. And I'll never lose you. I'll always protect you, even from yourself." He let go and stepped back, giving a charming smile that the court always fell for. "Your household will be better off without all those Northerners. You're a Southron prince, after all, what good were those barbarians to you?"

Loyal, always, to someone with Stark blood, and not at all to the other Targaryens. Which was why Aegon had to get rid of them.

"You're right, thank you."

It would take his plans years to recover from this. Aemon couldn't help but think, in resignation, that maybe he shouldn't even bother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> possessive!Targaryens really never gets old for me lol


	15. Jon & Daenerys (Stannis wins the WOT5K)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Baratheon sits on the Iron Throne and Daenerys, Queen of Meereen and the Bay of Dragons, must decide how to move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it keeps coming up, these are the fics off of drabbles/one-shots that I am kinda poking at trying to make something of: [List with Descriptions on my Tumblr.](https://manyangledone.tumblr.com/post/186640522024/asoiafgot-fics-im-working-on)
> 
> This fic is a lot of little AU tweaks wherein Stannis goes North but still manages to win in the end, Jon flees to Essos after his murder/resurrection, and fAegon never encounters Tyrion and doesn't go to Westeros early.

Daenerys stared after her supposed nephew, still deep in thought. 

"You can't honestly be thinking of agreeing with him." The voice jolted her and she turned, watching as Jon came from the shadow behind her throne he tended to settle in. "You have a kingdom to rule here."

"A Baratheon sits on the throne, our family's throne, doesn't that bother you at all?"

" _Stannis_ Baratheon. As far as I'm aware, he spent all of the Rebellion in Storm's End and had nothing to do with any of the battles or the Sack." 

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that true or just what your uncle taught you?"

"It's true, your grace." Ser Barristan took a few steps closer, looking between them. "And the enmity between he and Robert was well-known. Robert gave Storm's End to Renly when it should have gone to Stannis and passed over him for Hand, as well."

That did make her feel slightly better, knowing that the Usurper might hate that his brother was on the throne he'd stolen. "There is still the question of a Targaryen restoration. We could have an empire that stretches across the Narrow Sea."

"We? Will you marry that Aegon, then?" Jon's voice always held the oddest tone when he spoke of his supposed brother, hope and bitterness wrapped around outrage. 

She chuckled. "It would certainly serve him right, to never have an heir of his own seed and be forced to name you and your children as his successors. But, no, I have no desire to be second to someone like him."

Someone who had a comfortable life, hidden away, while she and her brother were on the run, begging on the streets. Someone who had a good education and people who believed in him, and never once tried to reach out to his family until she had dragons and an army of her own.

"You could make peace with Westeros, instead of war," Ser Barristan suggested, and curiously she motioned for him to continue. "Stannis' only heir is a daughter who isn't too much younger than you...or Prince Aemon."

Jon's eyes went wide and Daenerys almost laughed at him. Her poor nephew, still not used to being treated as a highborn. 

"And as he's my heir, and would be the eventual King of of the Seven Kingdoms, that would bind our Empire together through their children." 

That had a certain appeal, she had to admit. It would certainly stabilize her own kingdom, knowing there would be no threat from Westeros, and it would gain her an ally. If nothing else, favorable trade deals were appealing, to offset the still fumbling economy now that slavery had been banned throughout the Bay of Dragons.

"I can't possibly marry _Shireen_ ," Jon protested, glancing helplessly between the two of them.

"Ah, that's right, you've _met_ the newest Usurper and his family." Jon's ever-depressing stories of his time with the Night's Watch were usually best forgotten. "All the better, he must have liked you. I hear he's near as dour as you."

Jon rolled his eyes at her. "She can't be more than two and ten, Dany!"

"Five or so years is not so great a difference in age," she mused aloud, as she'd certainly done worse herself. "Of course, I would not expect you to marry right away. It might even be years before any marriage contract is finalized."

"You can't be serious. You want not only Westeros, but the Bay of Dragons to fall under the Baratheon dynasty?"

That...was a good point. Obviously Stannis would insist any of their children take their mother's name. 

"I would be satisfied with a solution such as Nymeria and the Martells reached. Baratheon-Targaryen, Targaryen-Baratheon. They don't have quite the same ring to them, but I'm sure we'll work something out."

"My Queen, when that Aegon finds out you're considering this."

"He'll take the Golden Company and leave us in peace, hopefully." She waved a dismissive hand. "We all three know he's no real dragon."

But perhaps this Shireen would prove to be, she'd have just as much, if not more, blood of the dragon as some Blackfyre did.

"I'll send out a messenger." She walked by Jon, patting him on the shoulder as she passed. "Don't look so sad, nephew, there are worse things than being sold in marriage."

He winced and she knew he'd gotten the message. One thing she could always count on, since he showed up last year confused and desperate, was that he'd do his duty to his Queen.


	16. Elia/Lyanna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Lyanna earns her crown of flowers.

A twig snapped and Lyanna whipped around, holding her helmet in front of her, though she knew it wouldn't make much of a weapon.

But instead of Aerys' men, her eyes met the dark, worried gaze of the Princess. "Lady Lyanna." She didn't seem surprised. "You look as though you could use another set of hands."

"Princess Elia, I--"

"I'm Prince Oberyn's older sister, my lady, I am well-acquainted with mischief gone afoul." 

And just like that, the princess was helping her out of her remaining armor. They made quick work of it, Lyanna hurriedly throwing on her dress and Elia doing up the ties in the back and smoothing her hair into a quick braid.

They hid the armor, sinking it into a nearby pond, but Lyanna couldn't quite bring herself to lose her shield. With Elia's encouragement, she propped her up so she could hide it high in the branches of a tree, and then they walked out of the forest, arm in arm. A Kingsguard fell into step behind them, but it only took a glance to realize it was Elia's uncle and surely still loyal to her over the King.

"I don't know how to thank you, your grace," Lyanna murmured as they walked, no one paying overly much attention to two highborn women on an evening stroll.

Elia laughed, the sound musical in Lyanna's ears, and the twinkling of her eyes was mesmerizing. "There is no need to thank me, Lady Lyanna. It is the duty of any decent person to help the innocent."

Lyanna blushed. "Please, Princess, you may call me Lyanna. And...I'm hardly innocent. I _did_ enter the joust."

"And what joust is complete without a mystery knight? Ser Barristan in the Kingsguard had been one, himself, when a boy. There is no crime in what you did."

"Many wouldn't agree, I am a lady, not a boy."

She snorted, the sound surprisingly at odds with the delicate, elegant princess. "I am Dornish, we do not hold to such foolishness." Elia glanced her over, appreciatively, and Lyanna's blush only deepened. "You would do well in my homeland, Lyanna. 'Tis a shame your father did not look to us for a match."

Lyanna grimaced. "I wished he hadn't looked anywhere for a match," she grumbled. "But now I will be trapped in the South, forced to play act a proper lady for a man who sleeps with any woman that crosses his path."

"If only we could choose our partners, what a world we might live in."

"But...you and the prince?" Lyanna's voice was nearly a whisper by the end of the sentence, even her own boldness having limits.

"Prince Rhaegar is a fine man, but I would not put myself in Aerys' path even for the greatest man, given the choice."

There was no way Lyanna could argue with that, still remembering the mad shouting of the King demanding her to unveil herself. She had heard stories of Aerys when he was younger from her father and since arriving at Harrenhal had heard many others that seemed to be at odds with who the King had once been. 

It was only after they had left the Stark tents long behind them that Lyanna realized they were going towards the castle. "Ah, princess, I have been staying with my brothers in the camp."

"You can't possibly return, yet, we will clean you up a little more and claim you were with me and my ladies since right after the jousting's end."

"You are truly too kind, Princess."

Elia tilted her head, glancing at Lyanna as they walked inside. "Please, when we are alone, you are welcome to call me Elia."

"We've only just met."

"And, yet, we share a secret now, don't we? What better basis is there, for a friendship?"

Lyanna wondered if she was being teased, but she wasn't sure. She'd never had many female companions, and her mother died when she was young, but she knew that there were games that women played that men did not.

"...I would treasure a friendship with you, Elia," she finally allowed. 

And, truly, the princess seemed like a fine person. She had yet to hear a bad word about her, even from those who had nothing but hatred in their hearts towards Aerys. For all that she was Dornish, she had managed to obtain the respect of many of the lords and ladies who frequented the royal court.

Elia laughed again, squeezing Lyanna's arm. "You're such a sweet thing, I almost regret that I'll be introducing you to my ladies. They'll corrupt you and then where will we be?"

"Oh, I...don't know about that, Princess."

"You'll have to promise me to stay yourself, then. The Knight of the Laughing Tree is surely a force to be reckoned with!"

Grinning, Lyanna gave as much of a bow as she could without letting go. "I assure you, princess, this knight will not let you down."

Elia smiled softly, though the expression resided almost completely in her eyes. "No, I don't think you will. I think you'll prove to be a true knight, Ser Lyanna."

Soon enough, Lyanna was surrounded by Elia's loyal ladies and had almost forgotten her terror from earlier. When she finally left to return to her tent, she realized that might have been exactly Elia's plan, and knew she had even more of a reason to thank her.


	17. Aerys & Jon (Rhaegar Won AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaegar introduces baby Aemon at court.

Unlike his older brother and sister, Aemon didn't cry when Aerys held him. He stared up with his dark grey eyes, cold as if the North lived within him.

"He doesn't look like a dragon," Aerys criticized and Rhaegar tensed, ready to take his son back--he'd put off introducing them for months for a reason.

His father frowned, then, holding Aemon closer to his face, but still the babe didn't complain. "It's certainly more respectful than your other brats," now Aerys voice was contemplative and Rhaegar stared, not quite sure what he was witnessing. "And he has our nose."

Aerys poked Aemon's nose, barely missing scratching him with his unkempt nails, but all Aemon did was let out a soft giggle and reach out, trying to catch Aerys' fingers.

"He sounds like you did, as a babe. Quiet even when you made noise. Not like the other spawn people drag around the Keep." 

And now Aerys was stroking Aemon's thin, but already dark hair. The entire court, when Rhaegar took just a second to look away from his child in the hands of a monster, seemed as shocked as he was. Rhaegar had thought, at best, Aerys would react as he had to Rhaenys.

But Aemon had inherited his mother's fearlessness and that was apparently appealing to a man who everyone else feared.

Finally, after a few more minutes of studying a quiet Aemon, Aerys handed him back to his nurse.

"One out of three, horrible odds, but about what I would expect from you." Even Aerys insult lacked the edge it normally did and his gaze on Rhaegar was almost nostalgic.

Did he miss being a real father? Did he miss those days of Rhaegar's far off youth when they were a family that wasn't just held together by politics and blood?

"...Thank you, father. I'm sure Aemon will make all of us proud."

"Someone has to make me proud," Aerys said, with a snort. "He'll marry Daenerys, once she flowers. I doubt you're managing another daughter and I won't waste a real dragon to that Dornish creature."

The court whispered around them, as surprised as Rhaegar at the sudden betrothal. "...Of course, father." He could always break it, once his father died and he was King. 

"And make sure he's raised properly. I don't want Common coming out of his mouth until he knows his native language."

Rhaegar glanced at his youngest again, wondering what it was that had somehow won his father over. Wishing he could do the same.

"I'll speak to mother about it."

"Good, good, now get him to the nursery. He shouldn't be around these people, who knows what they might do to him."

And there was the paranoia, back to normal.

"Of course, father." 

Rhaegar left with the nurse, taking Aemon from her as soon as they were out the door. "You're just like your mother," he whispered to him as they walked, "everyone you meet can't help but love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I always headcanon that Jon was like the perfect baby, never making much noise or anything unless he had to, and instead of that making Cat soften towards him it just made her hate him more lol But Aerys of course would probably like that--both because he wasn't so bad when Rhaegar was a baby and would maybe retain a few good memories or that and also because he probably scares the shit out of every other kid around him, so he's used to screaming babies and has rationalized that somehow lol


	18. Jon vs Dany (future fic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remaining Starks are united against the Targaryen invaders.

As the dragon all-but fell to the ground, Jon ran towards it, Longclaw unsheathed. 

Drogon was screeching in pain, the birds that Bran had been controlling had gone for his rider, yes, but also for any vulnerable part of him they could find--Jon wasn't sure he even had eyes left, after that.

Stumbling from his back, Daenerys at first didn't seem to realize she'd reached the ground, hands jerking around her head as if to still ward off the birds.

"It's time to surrender, _Aunt_ Daenerys," he said, voice calm and cold.

Her head whipped up towards him, her eyes narrowing. "We are fighting for what is rightfully ours!"

"No, you're not. Your father broke fealty, the kingdoms aren't rightfully yours, you can only take them by conquest. You have no more right to any of them than the first Aegon."

She pulled herself up to her feet, standing straight, as if she could intimidate him with her mewling dragon and her battered armor. "You should be on _our_ side of this. You are our blood."

"The _Starks_ are my blood, too. And the ones who raised me. The ones who haven't degraded me and blamed a war on me."

"That was...regrettable. But of course Aegon would react badly, at first! Once he was used to the idea of you, he--"

"Realized the advantages of having a third dragon rider? Or that, until he has a male heir, having me around would stabilize his rule?" Jon scoffed. 

Daenerys' glare returned, harder this time. "If you aren't with us, then, you're against us. Another Blackfyre trying to take what belongs to his trueborn family. And while you're here, with me, Aegon is off burning your precious Winterfell to the ground."

Jon smirked and motioned around them. "I didn't get here by dragon, _dear aunt_. I left mine _at_ Winterfell....And since when does _the Cannibal_ need a rider to attack another dragon?"

As he spoke, he could watch what little color there was washing from her face as she realized what might be happening. Canny was huge, ancient and experienced in fighting dragons. Rhaegal was smaller, had only ever play-fought with his brothers, and was flying right into a trap with her king vulnerable on his back.

"You...you might not be the one to do it, but it would make you no less a kinslayer!"

"Kinslaying runs in our family. It's hardly the first crime I've committed to ensure Rickon's rule and I doubt it will be the last."

He'd only gotten a few minutes with Bloodraven, before he passed on and Bran took his place, but it had been enough to know that they were the same. Now that Jon had his family back, now that they could be safe, there was nothing he wouldn't give, nothing he wouldn't do, to protect them.

"You can surrender or you can die, Daenerys Targaryen. Those are your only options."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of my life for Jon finding the Cannibal on Skaagos instead of taking one of Dany's dragons lolol


	19. Jon & the Martells (Rhaegar Won)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Aemon is a ward of the Martells.

Aemon hadn't known what to expect when he went to ward in Dorne, but the longer he was there, the more he hoped that, somehow, his parents would forget he existed and just leave him there.

He'd thought he'd hate the heat of it, Mother Lyanna had certainly worried over that. She'd ordered a whole wardrobe of light weight clothing for him and had a Maester drill him on problems such as heat stroke and sunburn. Mother Elia had simply laughed, saying she knew their little dragon would flourish in the sun, and that the vipers of Dorne were far less a menace than the snakes of King's Landing.

He had flourished, he'd felt like he was coming alive in the heat. The people around him had helped, too, not caring he was only the second son, the spare, and treating him with respect he rarely found in the Red Keep. Better, yet, his cousins treated him like a real person, not just a prop, playing with him, training with him, just spending time with him in a way that no one but his family did back home.

"You may not have been born from her body," Prince Doran had told him, on the night Aemon finally allowed his fear over being there to show, "but you are Elia's child as much as your siblings. We are your uncles and cousins, you should never doubt that."

After that, he'd started to call Doran "uncle" at his insistence. And then Oberyn had insisted, as well, and taken him on an exciting camping trip in the desert. Doran had countered by giving Aemon interesting books on war and strategy to read and having long conversations with him about it, never condescending to Aemon just because he was a child and lacked some knowledge and experience.

Aunt Ellaria found the entire thing hilarious, she'd confessed. The two brothers were often rivals in subtle ways, but trying to win over one of their nephews was bringing it out in full force.

Aemon, of course, admitted that Ellaria was his favorite at dinner the next night and both Doran and Oberyn were forced to admit defeat.

He was only supposed to stay for four years, that was all his mothers said they could spare to be away from him. Yet, as the deadline approached to return home, he found himself searching for some answer. Some way to stay or return.

It was Tyene who offered the solution. Because of course it was. She'd looked straight at him, smirked, and then gave Arianne a soft slap on the shoulder.

"Arianne has yet to agree on a single betrothal."

"And you think I'd agree to a little boy?" Arianne had sniffed, acting offended, though Aemon knew she didn't mind him.

"Why not? When are you going to find any other man so high ranking and respectful of you? Even half the men in Dorne feel like they should have the real power in a marriage."

Just like that, he had a plan, and one that Doran reluctantly agreed to present to his father. 

Aemon would have to return to King's Landing, and in truth he _did_ want to see his siblings and parents, but then when he was of age he'd return. He'd become Prince Consort and hopefully never have to worry about the cesspit of the Red Keep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm one of those people who are fairly sure that Arianne would have probably ended up marrying Viserys or Jon if Rhaegar had won the Rebellion and am a fan of Arianne/Jon in general lol Anyway, just felt like writing some fluff!


	20. Elia/Lyanna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elia is trapped in the Red Keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could be considered a sequel to my last Elia/Lyanna piece.

"I don't like leaving you here."

"It's fine, uncle," Elia assured him, setting a steady hand on his arm and offering a reassuring smile.

She had been playing the game for so long, sometimes she wondered if she could even stop. If she could ever be her true, genuine self.

"We already have a plan to leave, when Rhaegar stopped to see us he confirmed it. Lyanna is currently in Dorne, with three Kingsguard who have escaped Aerys' net. After she gives birth, she will be moved in sequel to Sunspear. And Aegon, Rhaenys, and I will already be there, waiting for them. We'll have three Kingsguard and my brother's support. Once Lya gets word to her own brother, we'll have the North, too. Aerys won't be able to touch us."

Lewyn still hesitated. "Doran didn't send many men to help."

Grimacing, Elia acknowledged the truth of that. "No, I'm not surprised. He thinks he can play this both ways, as I hear Lord Tyrell is. That he can give just enough to Aerys to not be punished if somehow he was not removed immediately after the war."

"Aerys will be very upset to lose his Dornish hostages."

Elia chuckled. "Let him be. You will be at the front with Rhaegar, I and my children will be gone. Let him rage, impotent and trapped in this gods' forsaken place."

Eventually, he had to leave, to follow Rhaegar out to battle, and Elia continued her preparation. She had few loyal servants left, her ladies having mostly fled already.

Perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised, then, to find Varys blocking the path through the tunnel she took under the keep. Aegon in her arms, Rhaenys gripping her hand tightly, and just a single maid assisting them. 

Even if Varys wasn't a fighter, Elia could not risk her children being hurt.

"Tsk, princess, you must realize how unsafe sea travel is right now? To risk your children, that's not a very motherly thing to do."

Gritting her teeth, Elia tried to look as commanding as she could gripping two children and dressed as a merchant. "This Keep is hardly safe, as long as the King believes he can burn anyone who disagrees with him."

"But it's surely safe for _you_ and your children," the Spider simpered. "Much safer than floating away on a smuggler's boat."

"I'll take my chances."

"Alas, I'm afraid that way is closed to you, princess. Your only choice now is how you return to your rooms. I'm sure you don't want me getting the guards involved. Right now, we're the only ones who need know."

The guards would report it to Aerys and the Spider was implying he wouldn't. She wavered, glancing desperately at the tunnel behind him, but knew that he most likely had already had her way out killed.

"...I suppose our exploration is over. We'll return to my rooms for the night."

"Very good, princess."

Feeling him at her back as she retraced her steps made her skin crawl, but there was nothing she could do about it.

She only hoped that she'd have another chance to get away, to join Lyanna and her child, their newest child, in Dorne. The three siblings could grow up safe at the Water Gardens as she had, happy and carefree, as their father took the throne and tried to fix the tragedies of the Mad King's reign. And she and Lyanna could be happy together, perhaps, as she'd hoped for them.

If they could just hold out for a few more months, surely her dreams for the future would come true. How much more could the gods expect her to sacrifice?


	21. Elia & Jon (Elia survived the Sack AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elia has raised a good king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My last drabble got me thinking through other Elia/Lyanna situations and stuff and then I thought--what if Elia survived and Jon survived, but not the others? And here we go lol

"I don't want it," Aemon muttered, glaring at the Iron Throne.

Sighing, Elia set a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "I know. If I could tear all of this down and have our family back, I would in an instant. But we have a duty, Aems, to our family, to our people. This is...this is what they would have wanted."

"You can't now that!" He twisted out of her hold, glaring up at her, and in his face she could see Lyanna, though he was younger even than she was at the tourney. "Egg and Rhae weren't old enough to care and my mother died alone in the desert!"

Aching, she remembered her other babies. Rhaenys, alone and scared in her father's room, stabbed half a hundred times. The Mountain had grabbed Aegon from Elia's own arms, had murdered him in front of her, but Jaime had stopped him before he could do anything to her. In her darker moments, she wished Jaime hadn't come, that Clegane had killed her, too.

But then she would not have been there for Aemon, who had lost his mother as she had lost the children of her womb. He had been her only comfort in the dark days of the end of the Rebellion, when even the Rebel lords couldn't agree what to do with the throne, who to put upon it.

They would not have been so fractured, she knew, if Aegon still lived. But Aemon was Lord Stark's nephew and that changed everything.

"It's what your father would have wanted. And I like to think it _is_ what Egg and Rhae would have wanted. They died because of that throne, because the Lannisters wanted to clear a path to it. Honoring their memory is you, upon it, King Aemon the first of his name."

Aemon slumped, ducking his head. "I'm sorry, mother."

"I know, my little dragon, being in this room, this keep...it's hard for me, too. But in a few years my brother will no longer be your Regent, you will be crowned and take control. You'll build a better world, the one your father, Lya, and I dreamt of."

"What if I _can't_? What if I'm a bad king?"

"Have I not raised you, Aemon?" He bashfully nodded. "Have you not learned from some of the best maesters and septas in the land?" He nodded again. "Do you think I, or more brothers, or Lya's brothers, have failed you?"

"What? No!"

"Then you shouldn't worry. You will be a good king, I know this in my heart. Maybe one of the best Westeros has ever seen."

"...Westeros has seen a lot of kings," he mumbled, and she laughed, pulling him into her arms.

"Indeed, it has. But your siblings' spirits, they live inside of you, Aemon. They'll guide you. As will your father, and Lya, and all the good kings and queens that came before them. And if ever you're unsure of your path, we will always be there for you." She carded her hands through his dark hair, kissing the crown of his head. 

"I love you, mama," he whispered, pressing his face against her belly.

"I love you, too, little dragon. Now, come along. Uncle Doran wants to have a private dinner with you and your nameday tourney starts tomorrow, he wouldn't get another chance for a sennight."

They left the throne room, with its looming chair of swords and the slight, dark spot on the floor where his one grandfather had killed the other. The Holdfast held other memories, just as dark, but Elia was getting better at dealing with them as the years went on. Having Aemon there, hanging off her arm, helped. She knew Rhaenys and Aegon would have loved their little brother, she knew Rhaegar and Lyanna would be proud of him.

She was raising a good king. The best king. She couldn't let herself, or him, become trapped in despair.


	22. Elia/Rhaegar/Lyanna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dragon must have three heads, but Elia cannot have the third.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was discussing Elia in the comments of one of my other drabbles with tifa1984 and this idea for a drabble occurred to me lol

"The dragon must have three heads," Rhaegar had insisted, even as the ache and weakness of Aegon's birth had still left Elia bound to her bed.

She could not do it. She could _not_. And she silently cursed her mother once again for putting her in this situation. Elia had always had frail health, she was never going to be a wife to birth a half-dozen children for her husband, but of course a King, or a future king, would want as many as he could get.

And that was even before knowing that Rhaegar wanted three. The three from his prophecies and dreams. His obsession.

If she didn't give him a third child, he'd find someone else who would. That was dangerous for Elia, for her children. Someone like Cersei Lannister, who had been sniffing around Rhaegar for years, would birth him many children and kill off Elia's as soon as she had the chance.

No, Elia knew that she needed an alternative. She needed someone who wouldn't be a threat, who wouldn't want their child on the throne.

She'd taken to searching through Rhaegar's notes while he was busy, digging through his solar and the library for all she could study about the prophecies and visions. 

But it wasn't them that gave her the information she needed--it was watching Rhaegar humming a song over Aegon, remembering the words he'd said shortly after his birth.

Ice and fire.

Where had she heard that before? In history, somewhere. There'd been something....

She found it, buried in stories of Lord Cregan Stark. Ice and fire, Stark and Targaryen.

 _Lyanna Stark_ who had been the brave little mystery knight who had so impressed them at Harrenhal. Who clearly wanted nothing to do with her _very fine_ betrothal. Who was a Stark and steeped in Stark honor. It was almost enough to make her believe in destiny, to make her agree with Rhaegar that everything that was happening was meant to be.

Smirking, Elia started to bring her argument to Rhaegar together. Lyanna was young and sheltered, but a sweet thing. As Rhaegar's mistress (or second wife, if he still insisted), she'd surely be the best choice of any highborn lady who could be convinced into such a position. And she was cute enough that perhaps Elia and Ashara could show her how to have fun without Rhaegar, when the men were off playing their own games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll never understand people who think Elia was just some, idk, weepy little victim with no ability to influence anything that happened. We know about her brothers and a bit about her mother, and I would think she'd be very mentally savvy and good at the game. Rhaegar wanted a third head of a dragon, we have a few different people saying either she didn't have great health or that Aegon's birth was really hard on her, so her taking control of the situation to make sure Rhaegar didn't have a third head she couldn't control makes the most sense to me. 
> 
> I mean, she was a grown woman who'd survived in Aerys court, despite his prejudice against her, for years. She's gotta have more to her than just wallowing away as the world collapses around her, waiting for death.


	23. Elia/Rhaegar/Lyanna (Rhaegar Won AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elia loves to make Lyanna blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, comment moderation is back on, because none of you get to have nice things I guess and whitewashing the First Men to accuse people of being racist for not headcanoning Elia as a passive victim is apparently totally the cool thing to do for trolls.
> 
> In honor of that, here's more Elia being awesome and not a passive victim.

Elia laughed and motioned for Lyanna to come see. From her balcony, she could easily make out the spot in the garden below where Rhaegar was with the children.

"Are they playing dragons and knights again?" Lyanna wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned her head against Elia's shoulders, looking down.

"Of course they are. And it looks like poor Rhaegar is the knight."

They both snickered, watching as the three dragons knocked him to the ground and began to mock-bite him and make motions as though they were breathing fire. The knight _never_ won dragons and knights, after all.

"Do you think he'll notice the grass stains this time?"

"No, of course not." They exchanged a look. "And if we forget to tell him, well...."

Lyanna bumped into her, their bodies swaying. "You're incorrigible. Poor Lord Connington's going to spend the whole court session trying to find a way to keep anyone from staring and everyone is just going to keep staring."

"I have warned him multiple times to change clothing before going out in public."

"And when would he fit that in? You know his schedule is ridiculous, especially with Aegon's nameday tourney approaching."

Elia shrugged. "It's not my fault he's so bad at delegating."

"Not like you, right?"

"Well, I _did_ convince you to take on half of the preparations for the feast."

Even after years together, Lyanna still blushed at any reference to what they did. "I hope our husband isn't convincing other people to take on work that way! His tongue definitely belongs to us!"

"Poor Lord Connington," Elia murmured, repeating Lyanna's earlier words, and set Lyanna off into a laughing fit.

"What have you done now?" Rhaegar's voice from below shouted up at them and he pointed to Lyanna, who was clutching the railing and wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

"Why must _I_ have done something?" Elia yelled back down, grinning and waving at their children as they noticed her. "You're going to be late if you don't hurry, your grace."

The noise might not have been audible from where they were, but Elia could tell he was groaning. "I'm sending these little monsters up to you!"

"Rawr!" Aegon cried, imitating the monster (the dragon, she knew, for all things were dragons to them right now) that his father accused him of being, Aemon quickly following his lead and releasing "rawrs" of his own.

"Send them up, then! There might be evil knights hiding under our beds who need vanquished!" Lyanna called down and their children cheered and ran inside, Rhaegar barely keeping up despite his height.

"Knights hiding underneath our bed, hm? That could be fun."

"Elia! The children are almost here!" Lyanna was blushing with her whole face, now, but still grinning.

"Maybe once they leave we can talk Arthur into playing, instead."

"Elia!"


	24. Jon Gen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ice or fire. Jon could not be both.

"Fire and ice," the white walker murmured through the body of the wight it controlled, staring at Jon with its chilling blue eyes. "And you must choose."

He grimaced, glancing around. Sansa and Arya were both watching him, waiting for his answer. Around them, all the North, from south and beyond the Wall, seemed to be watching.

"Choose fire, go South, be with those whose time has passed. Who will burn the world to ash to meet their needs."

"Choose ice, and fight with us. With your family."

Shuddering, Jon tried to process what was happening, the choice he had to make. The Others had looked South because of the Doom, had watched and waited, making sure that the ascendency of fire had fallen and the elements were equal once more.

Except it hadn't. The Tragedy at Summerhaul had awakened something in the Targaryen blood and Daenerys had seen its fruition. If left unchecked, fire would gain too much land, too much power.

It would need to be put down.

If left unchecked, the Targaryen forces would march on the North, they would bring their dragons and try to burn it away. But the North, the Northmen and the free folk, and the Others, would fight. Just as they had every other time it was necessary.

And Jon...he was both. He was neither. He was Southron and Northman, fire and ice. First Man and Valyrian. 

He loved his sisters, but in the South was a brother he'd thought dead, an aunt who wished to be so much more.

Whatever choice he made could be the turning point.

He had never wanted this sort of responsibility.


	25. Elia/Lyanna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're writing their own future.

[](https://manyangledone.tumblr.com/post/186853249129/how-can-i-say-this-without-breaking-how)

"In Dorne, you will have no need to hide." Elia pressed soft kisses against Lyanna's lips, so careful not to do too much, too fast.

"But you must go to Dragonstone, first," Lyanna pointed out, "you said yourself."

Sighing, Elia fell back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "It is true, put only until my child is born and old enough to travel. Rhaegar has promised me that." She caught a lock of Lyanna's hair in her fingers, twisting it around. "He shall take you to Dorne and I will meet you there. We will go to the Water Gardens, where my children will play in the fountains and be safe from the king. And you shall train with my brother and the knights."

"Will they really? Prince Oberyn seems...."

Elia let out a soft laugh, wondering what word Lyanna stopped herself from using. She was growing better at watching her words, though Elia wished she would not do so in private.

"He's my little brother, Lya, he'll do what I tell him to."

Lyanna sat up suddenly, planting her hands on either side of Elia and looming over her. "Oh? Do you think everyone always does what you want?" 

She smirked down at her and Elia's breath caught. "I have my ways of getting what I want."

"I should hope not in the same way with everyone. You don't have _that_ much Targaryen blood."

"Why you!"

Laughing, Elia twisted them around. She knew Lyanna let her, that even as young as she was, Lyanna was strong for a young woman. Straddling her, hands gripping her wrists and setting them over her head, Elia sat up straighter and gave a playful glare.

"I shall be your Queen, you should learn how to obey."

Lyanna's eyes seemed to darken, Elia following the flicker of her tongue against her lips. "...Why don't you teach me, your grace?"


	26. Daenerys/Jon (Ending AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon being trueborn does not just create succession issues for the Iron Throne.

Daenerys smirked at Sansa as she was brought into the throne room. She looked exhausted, even though she held herself well she could not hide the bags under her eyes, the sallowness of her skin.

"I am told that, in the North, a vow before a weirwood is considered sacred." Sansa flinched. "What _should_ happen to someone who breaks one? Banishment? Execution?" There was nothing but satisfaction as Sansa grew paler and paler.

"Your grace, I am the rightful Lady of Winterfell, surely you--"

"Ah, but you aren't, are you? Didn't you want everyone to know that my dear nephew is a _trueborn_ child of your dear Aunt Lyanna? And that brings up such a question, doesn't it? You _might_ come before him in the succession, or...well, it's really up to the Lords, isn't it?" 

Sansa's mask was cracking. "My father was a man and the older sibling, I would be before Lyanna, it's--I'm--"

"An oathbreaker. And for the goal of...what, exactly, Lady Stark? To help another becoming a Queenslayer, perhaps?" 

"The North deserves to be Independent! And Jon will not--"

"Prince Aegon will, of course, keep the North as part of my kingdoms." Daenerys wished her ancestor had made the Iron Throne more comfortable, so that she might sprawl across it in satisfaction. "The North could not _survive_ independence. You have very few fighting men left, many of your houses are without heads, and your winter stores have been devastated by Boltons and battle."

Varys had been useless with information against the Starks, even before he'd betrayed her, but many of their servants had assumed that Daenerys' did not know Common and revealed much in front of them.

"The Lords--"

"If they are truly dissatisfied, they can wait until your sister returns from her journey and have her as Lady of Winterfell. But a Warden is appointed by the monarch, and Aegon shall be Warden."

It was the least she owed Jon. If he had not flown South with her, Euron Greyjoy's attempt at a surprise attack might have been successful. Daenerys could only imagine what she might have lost, then. And he'd been by her side, loyal, in the weeks since. She only wished she could make him her consort, but he must marry another to ensure the survival of their family.

"What...what will you do with me?"

Sansa was looking around, now. She'd been so focused on Daenerys that it seemed she hadn't paid attention to the crowd. Most were Dornish, though Iron Born were present, as well. No one who Sansa would find as an ally. Even Lord Dayne, who was close to her sister, felt honor-bound to Jon, first.

"I have been told that all you have ever desired is to be a Queen. But there are only two Queens in Westeros and you will never be one of them. Nor will you be a Lady. The Silent Sisters have no such titles."

She shuddered, eyes wide. "Please, I could--"

"No, there is nothing you could do. Nothing you could offer. You have nothing, Sansa. You _are_ nothing. But perhaps, if you learn, you can still prove yourself useful."

Sansa was screaming by the time the Unsullied guards dragged her from the throne room and Daenerys bit back a chuckle. She dismissed court for the day and hurried along to the Dragonpit, where Jon brooded beside Rhaegal.

"It's done, then?"

"It's done, Lord of Winterfell." He flinched and she tutted, cuddling up beside him, leaning back on her son. "You did not want to stay in King's Landing, this was the best option."

"When I was a child, any time I even hinted at wanting that title, I was reminded that I was a bastard, that it would be usurping my trueborn siblings...."

"You _are_ trueborn, Jon. And with...whatever Brandon is, you are the last trueborn male of Stark descent."

He sighed. "Yet my children will be Targaryens."

"No, whichever becomes heir to Winterfell may take the Stark name." He made a surprised noise. "I'm not completely against your...other family. Just the ones I've met."

Giving a soft smile, Jon pushed off Rhaegal and held out his arm to her. "I suppose it doesn't really mean much, the distance between us, when we have dragons."

"And I may end up spending quite a bit of time in the Vale and Riverlands, trying to get those situations worked out."

"I don't envy you that."

"You _are_ my heir, still, I could force you to do all the work."

Jon rolled his eyes and followed along as she guided him back to the Keep. "I'll trade you the Vale lords for the Northmen once they find out everything that happened."

"Poor nephew." She kissed his cheek and stroked his arm, mocking and comforting. "But you didn't even mention, yet, what they'll be like once they remember you're unwed." His exaggerated groan made the slight ache of her heart worth it. 

They had years, perhaps decades, of work ahead of them to get Westeros back to some semblance of peace and prosperity. But she knew they could do it, together in spirit even if they could not be in any other way.


	27. Elia/Rhaegar/Lyanna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elia joins Lyanna in Dorne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing on with my Rebellion era Lyanna/Elia stuff lol 
> 
> Also, I am not taking random requests on this fic collection.

The approaching horses made everyone tense. There were too many for it to be Rhaegar returning, and too soon for that. Looking closer, they found both Targaryen and Martell banners and relaxed just a little. If it were one or the other, they might still fear for their safety, Lyanna's especially, she knew.

" _Elia_ ," she breathed out, once she saw one of the people at the front of the group.

She moved towards her, feeling more like she was waddling than anything else, and saw that strapped to Elia's chest was a bundle that must be Aegon. Next to her was Oberyn, who looked little-changed from how he had been at the Tourney at Harrenhal, and in front of him on the horse was Rhaenys.

Arthur helped Elia dismount and then the two women were clutching their hands together, grinning weakly. 

"Have you stopped traveling since leaving the Red Keep? You look exhausted!" Lyanna frowned in worry, glancing at the men that had accompanied her co-wife. 

Shaking her head, Elia handed Aegon off to the single woman who must have been his nurse. "We could not. Either the Stormlords might have found us or the King's men. We could not risk either."

"We'll be setting out again in the morning," Oberyn stated, looking around the tower in trepidation. "This is not easy to defend for long and having both princesses and your children here--"

"Lyanna shouldn't travel," Oswell interrupted, narrowing his eyes at Oberyn.

"The babe is not due for more than a moon, there are women who ride up until birth," Lyanna protested, all-but pouting at Oswell, chafing under his overprotective nature.

Elia gave a gentle smile. "It is true, Lya is not like me, Ser Oswell, if anyone can manage to travel while in this state, it would be our she-wolf."

The Kingsguard looked torn, but between Elia and Lyanna there wasn't much they could protest.

"We'll need the midwife to agree," Arthur finally stated. "If she does, we'll head to Starfall."

Oberyn agreed to that, clearly wanting to get deeper into Dorne, and they settled into the tower, Oswell dutifully following behind Lyanna up the stairs. Starfall would probably mean more stairs, from what she knew of it and how tall the Dornish liked to build, and she longed for Winterfell once more. 

Elia insisted on staying in the same room as Lyanna and having the children with them. It was just for one night, after all, and they had much to discuss. Arthur gave them a knowing look, but everyone moved about to their own rooms or back to their guard duties without complaint.

"You saw Rhaegar before leaving?" 

"Yes, just before. I had gotten word from my brother that he was returning and Rhaegar had spoken to a merchant he knew that assisted in smuggling us out. I met my brother and then we came directly here."

Grimacing, Lyanna thought about how that must have been. Going through Robert's territory would have terrified her, and she was arguably the one that had wronged him most.

"You're safe, now. Rhaegar will speak with Ned and get him to withdraw his forces, then Robert will have no choice but to surrender or be overwhelmed in battle." She spoke with far more confidence than she felt. "And then Rhaegar will call a Great Council and have Aerys removed. We'll be Queens." She laughed through the last part, trying to imagine herself in courtly dresses and politicking like a Southron.

Elia, too, laughed. "As if we both know you won't find ways to avoid the responsibilities of that," she teased, then sobered, setting her hand on Lyanna's belly. "Rhaegar thinks you'll have a daughter. That he'll make my Aegon marry both his sisters."

"Let's hope for a boy, then. He needs to be proven wrong more often, it's good for men."

"I can only hope that my brothers face that a few more times, then." 

They put the children to sleep, Lyanna watching Elia as she tenderly saw to Rhaenys and tried to alleviate her fears of being in such a strange new place. She hoped she'd learn to be such a good mother. Even though she knew of plenty of women who had started younger, sometimes Lyanna felt so unprepared. Her mother had died when she was so young, she didn't know what they were supposed to be like.

"What are you brooding over?" Elia whispered to her, after they'd curled up next to one another on the small bed of Lyanna's tower room.

"Nothing," she lied. "Just wondering what the rest of Dorne is like. The Prince's Pass and this tower are all I've seen."

"Starfall is lovely, I may need to worry about getting you to leave. And from there, once you and the babe can, we'll head to Sunspear or perhaps straight on to the Water Gardens. It's cooler there."

Lyanna groaned. "Cooler. That sounds amazing. My poor babe, having to deal with all this heat."

"My poor wolf maiden, you still haven't shed your winter coat." Elia chuckled, pressing closer. "You'll adjust. You're too adventurous not to. I'm glad I found you first, or I fear my brother might have stolen you away."

"Oberyn? Please, he's hardly as impressive as you."

"Flatterer."

In the morning, they set out for Starfall, Arthur easily leading the way. Rhaenys grumbled some, and Aegon cried throughout the trip, making all of the women and not a few of the men fuss over him the whole time, which only made Rhaenys worse.

By the time they reached the castle, they were all exhausted and more than ready for their break. Arthur's father saw them into a private section and sent the maester to Lyanna immediately to check on her.

"No activity from this point forward," he said, severely. "You may feel fine now, but that doesn't mean your babe is."

While Lyanna might have protested for herself, fear for her future child held her back. "You'll stay with me, won't you Elia? Throughout this."

"Of course I will. From now on, we'll be together. No matter what."


	28. Daenerys/Jon (Post GoT)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lord of Light does everything for a reason.

Daenerys looked rady to have Drogon burn Volantis down and Jon didn't think he'd blame her.

"You're telling us that your Lord orchestrated our _deaths_ and brought us back to life so we could be his _broodmare and stud_?" he growled out, hands clenched into fists at his side.

Kinvara looked between the two of them, expression calm. "You both had placed yourselves into positions where you would not have children. You, Aegon, through your vows and you, Daenerys, through the curse upon you. The Lord of Light freed you from those bonds."

"We're not going to breed just because some god wants us to," Daenerys scoffed.

"Ah, but don't you want to, my Queen?" Daenerys flinched at the title, still sensitive to her loss after waking up alive only a month before. "Don't you want your family to continue on? The last of the blood of dragons?"

At that, Daenerys looked torn, and Jon tensed. "No, we can't just do this for some god whose motivations we don't even know, Dany!"

She didn't correct him when he called her that, like she had every time before, and he realized that at least there was some good coming out of what Kinvara was saying--at the end, in King's Landing, they were both being manipulated by a higher power. Maybe that was even leading Daenerys to forgive him for his betrayal.

"Our House deserves to continue," Daenerys said, eyes starting to blaze with a familiar fire. "We survived the Doom, the Dance, the Rebellions. We cannot simply die off because...because you don't want children."

"I didn't say I didn't want them...."

"Then what is the problem?"

He gestured vaguely to Kinvara, then around at the temple that had been hosting them. "What do _they_ want from our children? What does the Lord of Light want from them? Would we bring them into the world just to be tools?"

Daenerys grew pensive, not liking the idea anymore than Jon.

"We would not _use_ them, my King. No more than just their existence is useful."

"And how is their mere existence useful to you?"

"Because you are blood of the dragon. Dragons are fire made flesh and fire runs in your veins. Without you, the forces of fire, of light, are diminished."

_Fire and blood_ , Jon thought, a little hysterically.

Stepping between them, regal as ever, Daenerys took back control of the conversation. "We have no interest in returning to Westeros. What would we do? How would we provide for our children?"

Kinvara smiled. "Westeros rejected you, but it was not your homeland, your grace. Essos is. And it is crying out for leadership, for change. Change that you can bring."

Jon wanted to say something, to stop whatever Daenerys was thinking, but his lingering guilt held him back. She wanted to rule, even if she never wanted to set foot in Westeros again, and if they were truly going to have children together...Jon could admit to himself he wanted them to be in a position to provide and protect them. Who knew how his cousins would react when they heard that she was still alive, how much danger they'd be in.

"You are the Mother of Dragons, my Queen, the blood of Old Valyria. And Volantis is the perfect place to start your new empire."


	29. Jon Gen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gets an unexpected job offer after coming back to life.

By the time Jon came back to life, Stannis (who hadn't been dead, after all) had taken back Winterfell and placed his brother, Rickon, as Lord and Jon...Jon had no reason to go South.

But he also couldn't bring himself to stay at the Wall. His watch had ended with his death but, more than that, he constantly felt paranoid that someone else would try to end him again. And the holes in his memory, the missing pieces of his past, the faded pictures of his family and friends.

Worse, yet, were the people who looked at him with worship in their eyes.

Essos was the easiest place to go for Ned Stark's bastard, he certainly couldn't go to any of the other kingdoms of Westeros. So he found himself on a ship to Bravos.

He'd only been there a day, he and Ghost trying to decide what to do (and with a heavy heart realizing the only option might be to become a sellsword), when a representative of the Iron Bank found him and brought him for a meeting.

The job offer was a surprise, but they saw the value in having someone who knew Westeros, who had a Westerosi education, and who could haggle even when in a position of less power.

He'd never really thought himself as the sort of man to become a banker, but it was almost a relief. His job make include violence, it might sometimes be about war, but no one would ever expect _him_ to be the fighter. To be the killer.

The Iron Bank had enough of those on the payroll, both in the form of sellswords and the Faceless Men that they hired. And if one of them seemed oddly familiar, had dead grey eyes he swore looked like his own, he didn't really remember what that meant, anymore.


	30. Jon & Aegon (post canon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There must always be a Stark at Winterfell, but the Starks are no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got an anon prompt on [my tumblr](https://manyangledone.tumblr.com): "winter is here and there are no Starks in Winterfell"
> 
> Not sure if this was quite what the nony was going for, but it was the first thing that came to mind! lol

"There must always be a Stark at Winterfell," Jon murmured the old saying into the silence of the room, watching the flurries fall outside the window.

The first winter since...everything. The first winter under a Targaryen rule in the South in Jon's lifetime. Jon had come North to check its stores and confirm the smallfolk would survive, but he did not fell at home.

"There are no more Starks," his older brother, his king, pointed out lazily. 

Glancing back at him, where he lounged in his chair picking at the bland breakfast offerings, Jon wondered if he didn't look more like a cat.

_Had Cersei Lannister had such lazy grace?_

"The Starks held this land for thousands of years, our Warden chafes at having to contend with that." He pulled himself away from the sights outside.

Aegon tilted his head, regarding him. "There are no more Starks, little brother. If you mean to use this as an excuse to search out Arya Stark again...I will not allow it. It has been years since anyone has seen her."

Jon winced, remembering the few times Aegon had allowed Jon to go himself in search of her. Many people had claimed to have her with them, yet never once did anyone come through. Never once did eyes that matched his own stare into his from a long Stark face.

"My mother was a Stark."

"...Aemon...."

"I could be a Stark, if you so willed it." 

There had been plenty of houses, though only lesser ones, that were now continued through the female line. Boys and young men whose mothers had held a noble name who were placed as lords.

He watched Aegon's face darken and knew that his gamble would not pay off.

"You are a _Targaryen_. The wolves had you long enough. They won't have you back," eyes that in the light looked more blue than purple narrowed at him, "nor shall they have any of your children."

"But the Starks--"

"If there must always be a Stark at Winterfell, then perhaps it's _Winterfell_ that's the problem," Aegon pretended to muse, making Jon wince. "My answer is no. The time of wolves is over. All of the great Houses have fallen and that has proven to be a _good_ thing. The separate kingdoms only made our family's rule more tenuous."

Jon nodded, turning back to watch the world outside the window. Soon enough it would be winter, the snows would fall, the white winds would blow, and he could only hope he was more dragon than wolf.


	31. Lyanna Gen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyanna hears about a potentially perfect husband

"It's too bad he's so interested in _lances_."

"No! I thought that was just a rumor?"

"How?! Everyone knows he's a sword swallower!"

Lyanna paused where she was, sneaking through the back rows of tents set about Harrenhal's grounds. She thought she was somewhere around the Reach's section, though in the dark and keeping her hood up to hide her face it became more difficult to tell. 

"It's a shame, too, they say there's no doubt he'll be Prince Rhaegar's Hand. All that power and no interest in a wife."

Tilting her ear closer, she tried to think of who they might be gossiping about. She didn't really know much about the Southern lords and ladies, only what Ned had written in his letters. And he was definitely _not_ the older brother who would enjoy regaling her with gossip about who was or wasn't having sex with whoever else.

"Still, maybe it's for the best. Could you imagine what your children would look like with him? Ew, what if they had his orange hair and your complexion?"

She stopped listening as they started talking about other men, mind working over what she'd been told as she continued on her way towards the forest. Orange hair, close to the Prince, well-known...Lord Connington, it had to be. She'd seen him lurking around the Prince a few times so far at the tourney.

A man who 'everyone' knew would someday be the second most powerful person in the Seven Kingdoms who had _no interest_ in being with a wife? She had to find him. She had to talk him into talking to her father. He'd call off the betrothal to Robert if it was for the future Hand, surely. 

And then she'd be as free as any lady could hope to get.


	32. Connington/Brandon (Rebellion AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon tries his hand at a honey pot only to realize he's the one that's trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt fill from an anonymous ask on [Tumblr](https://manyangledone.tumblr.com/ask): "Would love a fic where Jon is the reason for the rebellion and the end of the Targaryen dynasty instead of Lyanna. Would prefer slash if possible."

The Starks were, of course, not even on Jon's radar when it came to allies. Lord Stark had been, briefly, friends with the King and then run back up North with his tail tucked between his legs when he realized just what Aerys was really like and they hadn't done much more since.

Except now that Jon looked into it...there were suspicious things afoot. Too many alliances being made by the major Houses. In fact, if Aerys hadn't wanted to punish Tywin by making Jaime Lannister a Kingsguard, there'd be a good chance that by years end almost every kingdom would have their rulers related by marriage.

Jon didn't think that was a coincidence. And he owed it to Rhaegar to find out what was going on.

Ingratiating himself with most of the lords at the Tourney was difficult, they knew he was Rhaegar's man, a Targaryen loyalist, and weren't about to risk getting close to him.

But the Starks...they were different. The girl was nice, clearly put out by having to marry Robert Baratheon (and even Jon could sympathize with her on that point, his Lord Paramount was not a man anyone with a mind wanted to spend time around). The youngest was just that, young, and the one who warded in the Vale was mostly gone.

The eldest, the heir, though...he was something else. Charming, handsome, a talented fighter even if he wasn't much of a jouster (but when are Northerners ever?). Jon was supposed to be the one getting information out of him, yet the longer he spent around Brandon ("stop being so formal, Jon, you've had those lips around my cock, you can use them to call me 'Bran' already") the more he found himself forgetting that.

When Brandon asked him something, it was so easy to forget there was a reason to hold back. Rhaegar hadn't even bothered looking for him in days, too preoccupied with other things, but Brandon was there. Charming, clever, inviting him to travel to Riverrun for his wedding without a single concern as to what Lord Tully might think of the added guest (or what it might mean for his wife, to have a male lover of his about).

It wasn't until much later, as he helped Brandon stop a plot by Aerys to kidnap his sister (the Knight of the Laughing Tree, he wasn't even surprised by what the Starks got up to, anymore) and informed the lords at Riverrun of what had transpired that Jon realized just what he'd done.

Because as smoothly as Brandon had worked his way into Jon's bed, he made the case for why Aerys had broken fealty and must be overthrown. Why _Targaryen rule_ must end.

He'd been doing this to _help_ Rhaegar, but instead...instead he'd end up causing his best friend's death.


	33. Jon & Aegon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon wakes in an unfamiliar room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written like really late at night when I couldn't sleep lol

Jon shoved his head under the pillows when the light hit his face, groaning. What had he drunk last night?

Wait...he hadn't been drinking last night. He was supposed to wake up early for planning.

Was he coming down with something? Why hadn't the servants come in to wake him?

Resigned to the knowledge he'd _have_ to get up, he slowly edged his way off the bed and squinted around.

This...wasn't his bedroom. Had he gotten drunk for some reason and gone home with someone? He'd never done it before, but he'd heard stories about it.

The door opened and he reacted instinctively, grabbing something close to use as a weapon if needed. But only a slight servant girl came in, carrying a tray of food. And the 'weapon' he'd grabbed in his disoriented state was only a pillow.

She let out a surprised noise when she saw him and before he could say anything she'd put the tray down and fled. He head the clinking of armor outside the door and the distintive sound of the bolt of a lock.

He was starting to think that his headache wasn't from alcohol, at all. Which meant even though he was hungry and thirsty, he'd be ignoring that tray, just in case.

From the sunlight streaming through the small windows of the room (far too small for a man grown, even of a slimmer build like Jon, to fit through he'd quickly deduced), it was midday by the time the door opened again.

Two guards entered, dressed in white, and behind them was a man with distinctly Valyrian features.

His sinking feeling was getting worse.

The man approached, frowning as he took in the untouched tray. "You should eat something, it will help you feel better."

"After being drugged?"

"...Yes. The maester specifically recommended the food I sent."

"What guarantee do I have that it's not drugged, too?"

The man frowned again, then looked over his shoulder at a servant that had slipped in behind him. "Bring up a meal for two." He glanced back at Jon. "We'll dine together, my sampling the food should be proof enough."

Jon shrugged, he was hungry enough that he'd probably risk that. He needed to keep his strength up for an escape.

Then, surprisingly, the man ordered his guards to stay by the door and walked across the room. He stopped just out of arm's reached of Jon.

"I'm not sure if you've heard of me," the man now began, seemingly uncomfortable, "but I'm...I'm your older brother."

"You don't have to keep up the charade, you realize?"

The man, who Jon supposed must call himself Aegon in private, too, scowled. "Charade? Is that what _she_ told you?"

"If you mean Daenerys, yes, she told me all about you and how you're pretending to be Aegon Targaryen."

"I'm not pretending! I _am_. Why else would I have so many Targaryen loyalists backing me? And _Dorne_?"

"Because Daenerys is a woman with mostly foreign troops?"

Aegon blinked, then shook his head. "Because I am the rightful king. Our father was the eldest son and heir when he died and I was his heir."

Studying him, Jon wondered if perhaps the man actually believed the lies he told the world. Daenerys had assumed he was in on all of them, but maybe he was just deluded and being taken advantage of?

"It's awfully convenient, that just you managed to be smuggled out of the Red Keep before the Sack and no one in Westeros knew about you until it was ripe for the taking."

"That's--yes, I can see how unlikely everything might seem. But so does your own story and I'm not questioning that."

Jon snorted. "My story actually makes so much sense in retrospect I'm disappointed for never having guessed it. No one is surprised to know my father--Ned Stark--didn't really have a bastard or that the reason he'd never reveal my mother is because of what that would mean."

Aegon's eyes had darkened when he called Ned his father and the look reminded Jon very much of Daenerys' own when he mentioned his upbringing. But, of course, Aegon was probably raised on the same stories of the "Usurper's Dog" as Daenerys had been.

"The realm knows you're Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark's son, Aemon Targaryen, now. And that our Aunt Daenerys was keeping you hostage."

"...What?"

"It's clear now that it's the truth. She fed you lies to keep you from trying to escape and has placed her troops at too many strategic points around the North to risk open rebellion."

"That's not--" Jon cut himself off, not really sure how to say the reason Daenerys' troops were in those positions was because they'd fought against the Others just a few moons ago.

Aegon reached out and gripped Jon's shoulder, shocking him at the sudden touch. And...there was something there. Something else familiar he couldn't quite put a finger on.

"It doesn't matter anymore, little brother. My people rescued you and sabotaged most of her camps."

"What?!"

Daenerys had been nearly ready to march South, but if Aegon and his forces had seriously disrupted her...he didn't know what she'd do. The Iron Fleet was in shambles from the three-way battles between Victarion, Asha, and Euron and the Northern fleet was small and wouldn't cooperate with her if Jon wasn't there to convince them of it.

The door opened and the servant came through with a new tray of food. More than enough for two, certainly more than Jon had been getting in the war-torn North. Aegon walked over and took a few bits of food from all of the plates, giving Jon a pointed look as he ate.

"See? It's fine. Now eat something, you looked half-starved when you arrived."

"Why do you care?"

Aegon frowned at him, tilting his head to the side like he was confused. "You're my little brother. I...never thought I'd have a sibling. Not after hearing what happened to Rhaenys and my parents. I thought our aunt and uncle, as mad as their father, were my only family left. How could I not care?"

Jon could recall Daenerys saying something similar when she'd found out his parentage. "A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing," he muttered, recalling his namesake's words. 

He sat and ate, knowing if nothing else, he needed to play along. The more cooperative he seemed, the more freedom he would probably get. Until...until he went back to Daenerys, he supposed, though the longer he was near Aegon, the more he wondered if her belief about him being a fake was right.

What if this really was his brother? Could he turn his back on him?


	34. Aegon/Jon (fantasy AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beautiful prince, trapped in a tower, waiting for a knight to rescue him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally the last drabble was going to be this one but then it got away with me, so I wrote this one lol

"I've come to rescue you!" 

Aemon groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Why did these knights always have to come during the night?

"Go away!" he shouted down from his tower window, squinting to make out the knight in the dim moonlight.

"Do not fear for me! I would sacrifice anything to rescue you from the dragons that have captured you!"

Sighing, Aemon looked around for something he could dump on the knight's head. Liquid would just fall against the side of the tower, though, and he only had a few blood oranges left he didn't want to part with.

Resigned to a long night, he decided to at least find out what story the people were telling each other, now.

"There are no dragons here right now, ser, but I have no wish to leave!"

"I have heard of the curse upon you, fair prince! Do not worry, for I shall not allow it to dissuade me!"

"What tales have you heard of me, ser?"

"That you are a prince from a lost kingdom, stolen from your home by wicked dragons entranced by your great beauty and gallantry. You've been locked in that tower for much of your life, cursed to be unable to leave it, or even desire to do so! Once you are free of the building and the surrounding forest, your mind will be freed from the dragons' curse, do not fret!"

Aemon rolled his eyes. Great, now he wouldn't even be able to get people to listen to him and leave.

"Please, just go! This isn't worth...whatever you think your reward will be."

"Saving you and returning you home will be reward enough, my prince!"

Now the knight was trying the door at the base of the tower, as if anyone would ever leave such a thing unbarred. 

"Might you send down a rope that I might climb up to you?"

"I have no rope, ser, nor anything long and sturdy enough for such a feat," Aemon sighed.

Again, the knight tried to open the door. Then he tried climbing the smooth black stone of the tower, never even managing to find a handhold.

A roar sounded from the distance, over the tree tops, and the nocturnal animals that had been observing the knight fled. Jon could make out the knight unsheathing his sword and bringing up his shield, whipping around as he tried to glimpse a dragon in the sky.

It was the dragon on the ground he should have feared, though, for the distinctive glint of Aegon's black armor caught the moonlight as he slipped through the treeline and came up right beside the knight. The knight, startled, did not put up much of a fight. Aegon would pout later about that and try to find a new way to increase the skill of those who came.

He walked to the door and opened it with a key he kept on a chain around his neck, his footsteps against the long, spiraling staircase telling Aemon of his progress.

"Little brother! Did that fiend harm you?"

Aemon rolled his eyes again. "How could he do so, Egg? You never let them get close enough for _me_ to have any fun."

Aegon's eyes narrowed. "Nor shall they ever. You are not for them to see, to touch."

"Just you?"

"Only me," Aegon agreed, already starting the process of removing his riding armor.

"Someday, one of them _might_ free me, you know."

"No! I would never allow it." Aegon loomed over him, gripping Aemon's arms in a near-bruising grasp. "They do not deserve to even be within the same room as you, no one does."

"I am simply a man, brother."

"You are a _dragon_ , Aemon. Far better than any of them."

"And yet you walk among the crowds, hold court as a king in our family's kingdom," Aemon muttered, ignoring the teasing kisses Aegon placed along his throat.

"And I spare you that. Their looks and touches, their jealousies and plots. None of them will ever hurt you here."

"It's _boring_ here."

"Ah, but I have a few days just for you. You won't have any time to feel bored."


	35. Jon Gen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kingdoms have finally been set to rights, but now the succession is thrown into question again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EloImJosh pointed out to me that I always have Aegon be the one kidnapping Jon from Dany lol So here's me switching it up!

Jon had never thought he'd see the South. He wasn't the sort who would be a recruiter and that was the only reason a black brother would need to leave the North. 

But then Stannis had died taking back Winterfell and the lords of the North had revealed Robb's will, and what else could Jon do but honor it? Especially since he couldn't bare to be around the Watch, he could barely manage to sleep, worried that any moment he'd be murdered again.

When they'd gotten the raven from King Aegon VI to bend the knee, there'd been all sorts of arguments and counterarguments among the lords at Winterfell. And then Howland Reed had spoken and revealed something that changed Jon's entire worldview. Rickon became Lord Stark and Jon became...something else.

So he traveled South and greeted his older brother. He'd been worried, but found that he had little reason to be once he got to know Aegon. He would be a good King, that was what he'd been raised to be, after all.

For a few months everything seemed near-blissfully peaceful. Even the problems beyond the Wall didn't seem as bad as they had been, with Aegon listening and at least deciding to humor him, if not outright believing him.

Then word came that Dragonstone had been taken. By Daenerys Targaryen. Declaring herself the rightful Queen, that Aegon was a Blackfyre usurper, and that she'd rain fire and blood down on any who opposed her.

If Jon hadn't been there, acknowledged by nearly everyone and with some proof of his heritage, he thought it would have been worse for Aegon. He thought his brother might have started to question himself and others might have plotted against him. As it was, they held steady, keeping the Seven Kingdoms as united under him as they could.

Of all the things Jon had expected, on his way back from a fraught meeting with Daenerys, it was not to suddenly be beset by the Dothraki. How they had managed to stay undetected in the Kingswood, Jon didn't know, but there were far too many for his small party to defend against.

He'd thought the offer of safe passage and the desire to reconcile with her family would have been enough to keep Daenerys from doing such a thing. Clearly, he'd been a fool.

He surrendered, there, to spare the lives of the guards around him despite their protests. Slapped in shackles, he was carted off, first to a camp in the woods, and then to a ship on the coast. Dragonstone loomed over him, unmistakable, the next time he saw light.

Jon had expected to be thrown in a cell, perhaps tortured for what information he had on Aegon's troops and strategy. Instead he was marched to a luxurious room, something that would not be out of place in the Red Keep, and left in there with a full bathtub, food and wine, and even a change of clothing.

After a few moments of debating with himself, he partook of first the bath and clothing and then, after another hour or so of waiting, of the food and just a small portion of the wine. If Daenerys wanted him dead, there had been dozens of opportunities for it. Poisoning him now seemed silly.

When the door opened, he was better rested and ready to deal with what was to come. Or so he thought.

"My dear nephew," Daenerys gushed as she walked in. 

She looked very much like Aegon, Valyrian in features. She was younger than both of them, but didn't truly look it, the harsh life she'd lived most likely aging her. Her dress was foreign, as was the style of her hair, and even her accent sounded more like some of the Golden Company men Jon interacted with than a Westerosi.

"Have you come to explain why you felt the need to abduct me?"

She frowned. "Abduct? I was _saving_ you! That Blackfyre uses you like a shield against me, but he won't be able to do so anymore!"

Jon blinked. "Aegon isn't a Blackfyre, he's as much a Targaryen as either of us." Well, neither he nor his brother were as much of a Targaryen as Daenerys was, as they'd had mothers who weren't their father's sibling, but he didn't think that was the issue at hand.

Daenerys scoffed. "Of course he isn't, you should talk more to Tyrion about it, he can tell you." Jon had heard a little of what Tyrion had become in recent years and he wasn't sure he'd trust even the most basic and commonplace information that came from his lips.

"Then you did this to meet me? If so, it is nice to meet you, uh, Aunt Daenerys. But I would like to go home, now."

"This _is_ your home. Or it should have been. This was your father's seat, where you should have grown up." Daenerys sat down beside him, giving him a soft, sweet smile. "I want you to grow comfortable here, Aemon. When I take the throne, this will be your seat."

He frowned, trying to think how Aegon being a fake led to himself being skipped over for the throne, but knew better than to mention it. "Then I'm _your_ hostage, then?"

"No! You're my nephew, the last of our family! I've brought you here to protect you from the mummer's dragon and his treacherous people. I was shown visions of the truth of him, I've known all along to watch out for him, and Lord Connington, and many of those others."

Jon Connington, who stared at him and Aegon sometimes as if they were the only thing in the world that mattered. Septa Lemore, who was so very patient with Jon about everything that had to do with the Seven and never once showed she was upset he was only learning so he could pretend to care about them. Even Queen Arianne, who flirted with Jon _right in front_ of his brother, her husband, and yet was patient about the etiquette and other topics a bastard had never learnt. 

No, Jon could not believe they meant to harm him.

"Then why am I not free to go?"

"Because you'll become _his_ hostage," she replied, helplessly. Then she stood, shaking her head, and marched to the door. "You obviously are still too confused to understand. Don't worry, I'll show you everything and then you'll know."

He waited a few moments after she left and tried the door--locked. He'd have to wait until he could get to ground level and perhaps steal a ship. Or hope that Aegon knew where he was and sent people to rescue him.

No amount of Targaryen blood would make him comfortable being trapped on an island full of people too used to giving into their delusions.


	36. Aegon/Jon (futurefic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt "AU with king!aegon, nobody imagines the real reason why king aegon denied all marriage proposal for his younger brother"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was in an anon ask at [my tumblr](https://manyangledone.tumblr.com/ask). Thank you, nonny!

"She's a good candidate," Jon protested, half-heartedly.

"The third daughter of a minor lord, hardly a worthy candidate for a prince, and certainly not for the current heir to the throne," Aegon scoffed.

"There aren't many women left to choose from. You've refused widows, you've refused anyone whose house rebelled, who else is left?"

Jon's frustration seeped into his voice. If Aegon hadn't already dismissed the rest of the Small Council, he wouldn't dare to show it, but now it was just the two of them. They were both getting used to being siblings, though for Aegon it was probably an odder experience than for Jon, who had thought his cousins were his siblings for most of his life.

Aegon stood and Jon did so, as well, following protocol. But Aegon didn't leave the room, instead he walked around to Jon, pressing down on his shoulders until Jon took the hint and sat again.

Like this, staring up at Aegon, he couldn't help the thrill of fear. They'd met initially as enemies, after all, and even though Aegon had since accepted Jon--his identity, his presence, even his advice--there was always a part of him ready to be rejected from the last relative he had left who didn't outright hate him.

"You grew up being devalued, little brother, but you just stop thinking of yourself like that." Aegon stroked Jon's hair, smiling as Jon relaxed under his touch, used to Aegon's touches by now. "You deserve so much more than what you think you do."

"I'm expected to marry," he pointed out, and felt Aegon's hands tighten in his locks. "And don't tell me the Kingsguard is an option, we both know an Aegon on the throne and an Aemon in the Kingsguard would not look good."

"I'm not going to _force_ you to marry. Arianne will have a few children for me and that's all we need."

Frowning, Jon twisted to try to see Aegon's face. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you didn't _want_ me to get married." Aegon froze, like a deer realizing they're being stalked by a direwolf, and Jon's eyes widened. "Is it...is it the succession issue?" His shoulders slumped. "You're worried my descendants would--"

"No! Gods, Jon, no." For the first time in a long time, Jon saw Aegon look unsure. "Is it so awful, when I've _just_ found you, to not want to lose you?"

"Lose me? In most cases I could continue to live here."

Aegon shook his head, hands dropping from Jon, turning his back on him. "You're so..." he floundered for a word, "Northern."

Jon stood, watching Aegon's back. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You really haven't even thought about it? Haven't felt _anything_?"

"What are you talking about?" If it was anyone else but his King, Jon thought he would have already left in frustration.

Turning back around, Aegon strode closer, grabbing the front of Jon's gambeson and giving him a tug. "You've felt nothing for me? You haven't felt drawn to me? You can honestly stand here and say, on your honor, that you don't _want_ me? When you've been letting me all but fondle you for months?"

Eyes widening, Jon realized what Aegon was talking about. "I...that's not...." He hadn't even _considered_ it.

But now that it was mentioned, he couldn't help thinking about it, blushing at the memories of how tenderly Aegon would hold him. At how much time Aegon spent with him, even though he was a busy king.

Aegon released him, shoulders slumping. "I suppose I should have known," he muttered to himself.

"No, I...I never...but..." Jon trailed off, unsure how to tell his _brother_ that even though he'd never considered him _in that way_ now that it was an option he couldn't help but wonder.

So, instead of finding the words, he caught Aegon's wrist and pulled him close again. The only real experience kissing he had was with Ygritte and a few times with Satin, but he thought if Aegon really wanted him that much that surely he could deal with inexperience. 

Like with most things, it wasn't long before Aegon took control. And it was...nice. Very nice. Jon became more eager for it as it went on, feeling somehow a rightness to it he hadn't realized might have been underlying everything with them.

"No more betrothal requests," Aegon muttered, when he finally let Jon breath again. "...Please."

Jon ducked his head, hiding a small smile. "No more betrothal requests," he agreed.


	37. Elia (slight Elia/Lyanna) (Rhaegar Won AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elia is getting tired of explaining why it's not bastards who are the problem.

Over the years, Elia became used to questions about her husband's bastard. They almost always went the same way as the current, inane line of questioning she faced.

"Do you not fear a second Blackfyre, your grace?"

Elia glanced over at the lady, almost laughing in her face. "The first Blackfyre Rebellion did not happen because of a 'wicked bastard', my lady, it happened because of a bad king. If my husband were to treat my son the way Aegon IV treated Daeron...well, I am no Naerys, I would not meekly allow my boy to be called illegitimate."

The lady ducked her head. "I am sorry, my Queen, I do not know the details, only what my Septa told me of the evils of bastards."

She almost sighed, missing the times in her life where she could fully express herself. No, she couldn't blame this lady for how horrible the education of women outside of Dorne was.

"Aegon the Unworthy didn't simply favor Daemon, he clearly did not favor Daeron. He allowed rumors to spread that Daeron was a bastard of his sister and brother."

"I--I have heard stories of the Dragonknight and Queen Naerys." 

The lady blushed and Elia knew she'd probably found them romantic, as so many young girls found doomed romances. But Elia had had a doomed romance of her own and she knew they were not worthy of songs or longing. She would give anything to go back, to have nothing but a boring love with Lyanna.

"Exactly. Some maesters believe the king may have even been the source of the rumors. And then, not only did he give Daemon the symbol of kings, Blackfyre, but he also legitimized him on his death bed, meaning he purposefully created chaos in a way no one could ask him to clarify. So many came to believe that Daeron was a bastard, unjustly placed on the throne, and Daemon was now the legitimate son and clear heir to Aegon IV."

"Oh, I never thought of it as such," the lady murmured.

Looking away, Elia took in the sights of her children and her Lyanna's son--truly, her three children in her mind--playing. How anyone could blame innocent children for what was largely the fault of men, she blamed on the societies north of Dorne, and the ridiculous amount of power they granted their men. Never did they want to take responsibility.

Rhaegar was near-Dornish, compared to most of the men around him. Of course, his reasoning for having a mistress was very different than most men, it did not change the fact he had wanted one. Elia had often thought if more highborn men simply discussed it with their wives, first, they'd find them far more accepting. Most arranged marriages did not favor the women, half the ladies in court would be fine with their husbands having mistresses if they allowed their wives a bit more freedom, too.

"So, you see, my lady," Elia concluded, eyes following Aemon's slight form, "no bastard has the power to make themselves the next Blackfyre, only their fathers do. Even if Aemon were to be legitimized, as long as Rhaegar would, logically, state he came after his older brother in the succession," and how she chaffed, knowing her poor daughter was behind even her uncle to these people, "no one would rise up for him."

She did allow herself a soft laugh, then, motioning to the children playing. They were playing knights and dragons and it looked like Aemon had been made the damsel, being protected by the noble dragon against the wicked knight. Rhaenys growled and lashed with claw-like hands at Aegon as he feinted with his toy sword.

"Not that Aemon would ever try. He loves Aegon, he wants his brother to have a peaceful reign, and there's certainly never going to be a Bittersteel to fill his mind with poison."


	38. Elia Gen (Elia Lives AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Elia knows Jon exists, she'll stop at nothing to bring him back to Dorne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing on the "people being possessive over Jon" theme haha

Sometimes, Elia still woke up to nightmares of watching Aegon beaten in front of her, his tiny little body beyond recognition. Sometimes, she could still feel Clegane's hands on her flesh, could feel how helpless and useless she was under him. Sometimes, she imagined what Rhaenys' screams must have been like, how alone she must have felt.

Nothing could ever fix that. Not every comfort in Dorne could make her forget it, her homeland where she was so 'graciously' allowed to retreat to when Ser Jaime pulled the Mountain off of her and she lived.

Doran offered her keeps, land, anything to get her to leave the few rooms she haunted in the Water Gardens. Oberyn plied her with stories of Essos, of adventures they could have. Her nieces and nephews, too, tried their best. For years, nothing could move Elia.

And then she heard news, filtered through Doran's spies, about a child living a lie. Being forced to live that lie.

"Ned Stark doesn't have a bastard," she insisted and Doran had looked at her, surprised at hearing anything like passion in her voice.

"He does, the boy's name is Jon Snow, he's--"

"I'm not saying the boy doesn't exist. I'm saying he is _not Ned Stark's son_."

Her brother stared at her. "And how would you know?"

Elia blinked, remembering a grinning face on a white tree and blue against dark strands. "Because he's Lyanna's."

Doran sucked in a breath, looking back down at the report he'd been lazily reading to her. It had been his wish she engaged with something, but he could have never guessed this would be what did it. 

"He's my _step-son_ , Dore. He's my-my children's little brother. And he's living like a-a beaten pet in the frigid North!"

"...I had heard the boy was born in Dorne." Doran glanced at Areo, then back at Elia. "Perhaps we could use that, to bring him here?"

Licking her chapped lips, Elia imagined it, the lies they could weave, the stories they could tell. It all made her blood boil. That boy should be sat on the Iron Throne, serving justice to those who killed their family. Instead he was being raised a bastard.

"I'll go." Doran's mouth fell open, even his practiced masks not able to stand up against her finally, finally offering to leave the Water Gardens. "If--if we lie based on him having a Dornish mother, it won't be so odd that I go."

"Except that the North is still spewing lies about what happened with Lyanna. They'll question what you want with someone of Stark blood."

Her hands curled into fists, nails digging into her palms. The boy would be growing up thinking the worst of his parents.

"I can't reveal who he really is. I can't say he's Aemon Targaryen," she muttered, remembering the baby names that she, Rhaegar, and Lyanna had written back and forth about, "but that doesn't mean I can't give a reason for why I'd have a connection to him." And, truly, there was even a built in excuse, one that she wouldn't be surprised to learn that Ned Stark had used. "We can claim he is Ashara's child."

"...Would she agree to that?"

"She is my best friend, she would do far more than face a former lover and claim a child as her own for me. People knew she left King's Landing because she was pregnant, as long as no one thinks too deeply about _when_ that was or how old the boy is, it will work. And we only need to uphold such an excuse until he is within our borders. What will Stark do, declare war on another kingdom over a bastard?"

Doran seemed deep in thought and she waited, letting her older brother work out the details for himself. "Lord Stark would certainly be put in a difficult position. He can't admit who the boy's mother truly is without risking both his nephew's life and his own, and possibly even the position of the Starks as the high lords of the North."

"Robert Baratheon would consider harboring 'dragonspawn,'" she spat the term, seeing red at the memory of his dismissals, "as an act of treason."

"...Perhaps you can also state it in public, where the boy can hear. Then he may very well want to go with you, surely, and Stark would have to use force to keep him there."

"...I could bring some of Oberyn's daughters. Perhaps Ser Daemon, too, show the North how respected bastards are in Dorne."

She would play any games she had to, manipulate the Northmen however she needed to, if it meant bringing the last of Rhaegar's children to safety. She'd raise him as the prince, the king, he was meant to be, a rallying cry for all the loyalists who stayed in the shadows.

Whatever way Ned Stark had tried to ruin him, Elia would fix. Whatever poison they'd dripped into his ears, she would cure. 

"Letting the boy think he has a mother, then revealing he doesn't, is somewhat cruel."

Elia glared. "He _does_ have a mother. It will only be that we pretend it's Ashara, at first."

Doran raised his hands in surrender. "I know, Ely, I'm sorry. We'll get him home, don't worry. Whatever the traitors have planned for him, we won't let them go through with it."

"Thank you." She set her hands on his shoulders, gently, as much of a hug as she dared give him with his condition.

This was the beginning of a new era. Of the justice the spirits of her Rhaenys and Aegon cried out for.


	39. Jon & Ghost (Modern AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost gets a new follower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a [tumblr post I made](https://manyangledone.tumblr.com/post/187157996824/modern-au-where-jon-runs-a-twitter-and-insta)

"We got another follower!" Jon showed Ghost the screen, laughing at his expression. "Fine, fine, _you_ got one."

He ruffled Ghost's fur, then quickly setup a scene of him looking at the new follower count so Jon could take "reaction" shots to post. 

"Jon!" Sansa ducked her head into the room, seeing what he was doing and immediately groaning. "Jon, we're going to be _late_."

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

Setting up the pictures to upload, he hurriedly threw on a clean shirt and changed out of his baggy sweat pants into jeans. It only took another minute to brush out his hair, thankfully.

He double checked his nanny cam, making sure it was on and positioned well to catch anything cute Ghost might do when he was gone--plus, he could check it when he was out, just to make sure everything was okay.

"Jon!"

"Coming!" he shouted back, hugging Ghost and giving him a treat. "I'll be home in a few hours, don't worry!"

"Jon!" Sansa's annoyance was definitely rising quickly and he hurriedly ran out the door to join her.


	40. Jon Gen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon falls through time and arrives as Torrhen and Aegon meet.

Jon looked back and forth between the people arranged around him. When he'd barreled through the strange glowing doorway in the crypts all he'd hope to do was get away from the wights. He definitely wasn't expecting to end up somewhere very different--the Riverlands, he thought, from the descriptions of it.

There were dragons arranged nearby, but he didn't recognize them. And Northern lords, none of whom he recognized, either.

Though that wasn't to say there wasn't anything _familiar_ about some of the people. One of the men wore black armor with the Targaryen sigil and clearly Valyrian features. Another had hair and eyes the color of Jon's own and the Stark sigil on his breastplate. 

He felt Ghost carefully shift closer to him, ready for any sort of attack. These men might look confused now, but that didn't mean they wouldn't turn hostile in a moment.

"Who are you?" the Targaryen demanded, staring at Jon's chest.

Jon didn't need to glance down to know why--he was wearing the doublet that Sansa had made for him, a single red dragon head in the style of the Stark direwolf, wearing a crown of winter roses. When he glanced at him, the Stark man was also staring.

A Targaryen and a Stark, in an age with dragons, in the Riverlands with two armies at their backs that weren't fighting. Jon had a sinking feeling about exactly where--when--he might be.

"...No one of note. I'm sorry to intrude, I'll be on my way."

"You're a Northman," the Stark--Torrhen, it had to be, hazarded. 

"...Aye, I was raised in the North."

"But you aren't Northern." Aegon was studying his features, those Valyrian features that could be traced back to he and Rhaenys. 

He shifted uncomfortably. If he could change history, surely he wouldn't have been able to go back? Neither of these men were fools, they'd seen he and Ghost appear out of thin air.

"My father was Southron," he admitted, eyes flicking between the two Kings.

"What is your name?"

Jon licked his lips, now, knowing he had made his choice but still disliking it. "...Aemon of Houses Stark and Targaryen."

Murmurs erupted around them. Was that man next to Torrhen Brandon Snow? Was the one a little behind Aegon Orys Baratheon? Sam would be so envious of Jon, if Jon ever made it back to tell him.

Torrhen stepped forward first, blasé enough about Ghost that Jon figured he must have met direwolves before, offering his hand to Jon. "I know magic when I see it and whatever brought you here was that. It can't be a coincidence it was at this exact point, when Stark and Targaryen first met."

Taking his hand, Jon was relieved at least someone was on his side. "It must be purposeful, somehow. I was in the crypts at Winterfell right before this."

"...There's many stories about what resides there, we'll have to take you back to see if we can recreate what happened," the one who _must_ be Brandon Snow muttered, coming up beside Torrhen. "Well-met...cousin?"

"Some-greats nephew, I suppose?" Jon offered, with a wry smile.

"But a Targaryen, surely," Aegon stepped closer, giving a haughty look to the others, but keeping Jon between he and Ghost. "And it's hardly fitting for a prince to be left in such a state. I'll have a tent prepared to you near my own, grandson."

He'd caught on quickly enough. Jon glanced between his two ancestors, noticing the barely contained annoyance on their faces. If he fucked up Torrhen becoming the King-Who-Knelt, what would that mean for his future?

"Uh, yes. My father was a Targaryen, my mother a Stark--the only sister of the current Lord of Winterfell."

" _Lord_?" Torrhen muttered, shooting a glance over at Balerion, then back at Aegon.

Aegon nodded as if that somehow made sense to him. "And I suppose your mother wished for you to know her people, which was why you were raised among them."

Well, Jon supposed that was one way someone could put it.

"I suppose it's inevitable that I bend the knee," Torrhen pushed Brandon to the side, as only a true brother would, and stepped up to Aegon. "Then we can take Aemon back to Winterfell to solve this issue of his."

"I will gladly accept your fealty," Aegon replied, graciously, "but I think it best if Aemon rest, first, and then I can fly him directly to Winterfell after you've returned home."

_Oh no_. Jon knew what was happening, but he'd never thought it would happen with _any_ Stark and Targaryen.

"You're both very busy and it's not so difficult to find our way to Winterfell. Ghost and I can make it on our own, if perhaps you might lend me a horse, King Torrhen?"

They both protested viciously after that. Jon and Ghost leaned against each other, Ghost giving Jon an accusing stare as though he could have somehow predicted what would happen.

In the end, nothing was really decided. Since Torrhen _had_ to bend the knee, he reluctantly also had to allow his new king to take Jon back to his camp, but who he would actually stay and travel with was left until the next morning. 

Jon would normally think Torrhen was underestimating how possessive Targaryens could be, but then again no matter what happened Jon would need to be taken to Winterfell and be in Torrhen's domain.

It was exactly the sort of thing his families back in his time would pull and left Jon aching with homesickness after just a few hours. If he never could return to his own time, he didn't know what he'd do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically the culmination of my possessive!relative fics lolol


	41. Rhaegar & Jon (Rhaegar Wins AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two glimpses at Rhaegar and his youngest son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone had requested super fluffy Rhaegar and Jon and I was poking at an idea I had for that and thought up these two. There a little less than super fluffy, but thought I'd post them lol Consider them like two glimpses in the same verse.

Rhaegar stroked his fingers over the silver strings of his harp, just letting the song flow through him. Everything seemed so quiet now, with Elia and his two oldest off to visit their Dornish family. The trip had been planned for over a year, and he had promised Elia it would take place as Doran could hardly travel to visit them, but a part of him regretted agreeing now that it had happened.

He glanced up when his door opened, setting his harp to the side. There was only a few who were allowed to enter his rooms without permission, but he'd ordered most of them away from him for the day.

The small figure that stumbled in was unmistakably Aemon, dragging a small stuffed dragon behind him. The determined look on his face was so reminiscent of Lyanna that Rhaegar couldn't help the little smile that curved his lips.

"Mama, Egg, Rhae. All gone?" 

Not waiting for his little legs to take him across the room, Rhaegar forced himself up from his seat and went over to him, swooping Aemon into his arms. He carefully tucked his dragon, Winter, against them, long experienced with how his youngest would react if he treated the toy badly.

"They are, but they'll be back."

"Morrow?"

Rhaegar sighed, kissing the crown of Aemon's head and walking back over to his couch. He laid down, Aemon resting on his chest, stroking his son's dark hair.

"Not tomorrow, but soon. It's just you and I here right now."

Aemon's eyes widened. "No lonely papa."

"No, not lonely with you here." Winter was situated more upright on his chest and he let out a soft laugh. "Not with two little dragons."

Someday he'd be forced to let Aemon go, as well, to go to Dorne with Elia or visit his Northern relatives. Maybe even permanently when he was wed. But for now, his baby was still his.

"Play?" Aemon asked, after long enough that Rhaegar had begun to think he had fallen asleep.

He took a deep breath, thinking of how he'd planned to brood in his rooms for the evening so he did not have to face the rest of the Keep without the others. But he couldn't bring himself to say no.

Maybe he was taking a break from being a king, but he would always be a father.

***

Of all the attacks that Rhaegar and his Kingsguard had been anticipating when they reached Winterfell, a snowball directly to his face was _not_ one of them.

"You just hit the King!" came a voice from the trees and then the tell tale sound of children panicking and running.

When they turned the corner, there was only one small figure standing there, looking up at him with big grey eyes.

"I suppose this is where you take the blame?" With a nod to Arthur, Rhaegar dismounted. "Well, come on then, aren't you going to greet me?"

Aemon's worried face broke into a small smile and he hurried forward, hugging Rhaegar with more strength than he'd expected. "Missed you," he muttered, softly enough that the Kingsguard and others around them wouldn't hear.

Rhaegar held him more tightly, pressing his face into Aemon's hair. "I missed you, too, little dragon."

Groaning, Aemon pushed away, protesting. "I'm not little."

Behind them, Arthur gave a snort and Aemon gave him a playful glare. "I grew!"

"And you'll keep growing," Rhaegar assured him, squeezing his shoulder. "So, since your friends ran off instead of facing my wrath, why don't you escort me the rest of the way?"

"I guess I can." He sounded so put out that Rhaegar would have believed it, if it wasn't the exact tone that Rhaenys always used.

A servant brought one of the horses up to them and after making sure Aemon had mounted (and feeling a little silly, knowing his mother would have moved him on from ponies as soon as she could justify it), he got back on his own mount and they continued onward.

"Have you come to bring me back home?" 

"...I was going to ask you about that. We'd love to have you back, but if you'd prefer to stay here...." As much as it would pain them, Rhaegar would accept it.

Aemon shook his head. "I...I like visiting my mother, but I miss everyone."

"Then I'll make sure to let Lord Stark and your lady mother know."

Trying to do what was best for all of his children, to be the complete opposite of his own father, sometimes meant letting them go. But Aemon had never been like his Aegon, he didn't assert his independence when he could instead be with his family.

"Thank you, father." 

Aemon ducked his head, his hair blocking the smile that Rhaegar knew was there. Telling his mother and Eddard wouldn't be pleasant, but it would be more than worth it.


	42. Elia & Jon (Rhaegar Won AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aemon is the only baby dragon still in the nest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I was just having Elia feels and wrote this lol
> 
> Oh, also, for my Elia/Lyanna fans, I have a new WIP: [Broken Pieces Floating By](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395714). It's a modern au reincarnation horror story.

_And then there was one,_ Aemon thought, as he watched the ship his Aunt Daenerys was on sail into the horizon. 

His siblings and both his aunt and uncle were all gone, warding or marrying, or doing the former before the latter, and Aemon was still there. Alone.

"Don't sulk, little dragon, you'll end up like your father."

Aemon glanced back, smiling as Elia approached him. "Sorry, mother. It's just...everyone else gets to go off and see new places and I'm just...here."

"The Red Keep isn't a trap, you know, not anymore." 

She wrapped her arm around his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder. He was shorter than Aegon, still, but nearly as tall as she was. 

"I don't mean to seem ungrateful, but...I suppose I wish I _had_ somewhere to go."

Elia frowned, shifting so she was facing him a little more, studying his face. "You know how your father worries. After losing Lyanna...you're the last little bit we have left of her, Aems. We would have loved to honor her by sending you to ward in the North, but...."

"But Lord Stark never forgave her for running off to be with you and father." Aemon sighed. 

He'd heard the story before, first it was watered down, appropriate for a little boy, but as he began to hear more rumors about it as he got older his parents finally sat him down and explained it all. How Rhaegar had found out Lyanna was a mystery knight his father wanted dead, how Elia had comforted her, how eventually she'd agreed to have a child with Rhaegar in exchange for a peaceful life in Dorne. 

He knew that north of Dorne what she'd done was scandalous. It would have ruined her--and that was exactly what she had wanted.

Yet his Northern relatives couldn't accept that. Or, no, they accepted it, and they hated Aemon for being a symbol of it. That she might have been free of them and their expectations at the very end.

"Arianne said that--"

Elia laughed. "Yes, yes, Arianne keeps trying to trade Viserys for you, and she probably will right up until their vows." She flicked his nose, laughing again at his pout. "And you would be content to waste your days at the Water Gardens, my lazy little lizard."

"I'm not _that_ lazy! Egg is worse!"

"Oh, so we're comparing ourselves to the _worst_ , now? What if I compared you to Rhae?"

Aemon groaned, knowing he'd always be found wanting when his older sister came up. "When will she be back?"

"Oh, I don't know...."

"Mother!"

"Soon, Aems, and what do I tell you about that sulking?"

"Leave him alone, Elia, he can't help what's in his blood." 

Rhaegar was dressed for court--more fanciful than he normally preferred, his hair so smooth it was clear a servant pulled it back. And if Aemon doubted the destination, the tightness around Rhaegar's eyes would have confirmed it, anyway.

"Already? I thought the session today was postponed?" Elia's grip on Aemon tightened.

"Not by much, just enough to see Dany off." He squeezed Aemon's shoulder than held out his arm to Elia. "I'm afraid our work must still happen. Aemon, go get cleaned up, we'll expect you shortly."

Aemon let Elia drop a kiss on his cheek and Rhaegar to the top of his head, then hurried off to his room to change. With everyone else gone, he'd have to be at _all_ the official events, no matter how much he just wanted to fade away into a corner somewhere. 

"Do you think we should send him somewhere?" He heard his mother ask, her voice soft through the door and stopped, listening.

There was a moment of silence before Rhaegar replied. "We should, but I couldn't bare to. Aegon will be back, eventually, but we're losing everyone else."

Aemon heard faint sounds, though he couldn't identify what they might be.

"I'm glad we can agree on that. He'll always just be our baby, no matter how old he gets. Ours and Lyanna's."

He swallowed down the lump he felt forming in his throat and moved on again, glaring at the Kingsguard nearby, daring them to say anything about his eavesdropping. 

Maybe being stuck at the Red Keep wasn't so bad, if it gave some comfort to his parents. He might not be having the adventures the others were having, but there'd be decades yet for that.


	43. Sarella & Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dornish party visits Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the anonymous prompt on Tumblr, "Prince Oberyn and Sarella come to Winterfell for whatever reason. While there Sarella meets and bonds with Jon Snow over Northern history."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize anyone was in here." Jon stared at the person sitting deep in the library, a single candle the only light they used.

It was late and most of the castle was asleep, but Jon had felt restless. He'd been feeling that way for days, now, ever since the Dornish party arrived at Winterfell. His father had, apologetically, asked Jon to stay out of sight and he had, as obedient as ever, even as he chaffed at the request. The one time highborns visited who wouldn't be bothered by Jon's presence and he was still being hidden away.

This person, he thought, must be one of the visitors. Their short hair was dark as any Northern child's might be, as were their eyes, but their skin was a golden brown, lacking in the red undertones of his own people.

"It's no bother," the stranger replied, giving a sharp smile. "You seem to know your way around here well, with the way you walked through in the dark."

Jon ducked his head. "I do, I've come here often when I've needed to think." Or, at least, when he's had to think away from areas he might be noticed, like the practice yard.

The stranger studied him for a moment longer, then they moved quickly to light a few more of the candles nearby, illuminating the nook better.

"You must be Jon Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell. I was wondering when we'd meet."

He flinched. "I was--"

"Told to hide from us?" They tapped their fingers against the chin, smile widening. "Isn't that _odd_? I wonder what Lord Stark means to hide by hiding _you_."

Frowning, Jon tried to work out what they could mean. "My lord father does not wish to offend."

"With the presence of a bastard?" They laughed, then, and Jon watched on with wide eyes. "I suppose I should have introduced myself. I am one of Prince Oberyn's daughters, Sarella Sand."

Sand, Jon knew, was the Snow of Dorne. "Well met, my lady."

"Don't." Her eyes glinted in the flickering candlelight. "A bastard of a prince is still a bastard, Jon Snow."

"What would you prefer I call you, then?"

"Sarella will do." She motioned him closer and he stepped forward. "Do you enjoy history?"

"Jon," he said, hurriedly, "You may call me Jon. And, yes, I do. There is much to be learned from such."

She smiled again. "Indeed, there is. And the North, and the Starks especially, have such fascinating history, wouldn't you say?"

"Aye, I've always thought so."

"Good, I'm glad we're in agreement. Because I'd very much like to hear from you which of these books I should _actually_ be reading."

He didn't realize how much time he spent with Sarella in the library until the light of dawn was peeking through the windows. She didn't seem to mind the time, though, and refused to leave until he gave her assurances that she would see him again the next night. 

For once he didn't feel so bitter, going about his chores and hiding from the guests. He still did not know why his father insisted on it, with so many bastards, according to Sarella, in her father's party, and he did not know what answers she seemed to have behind her knowing smile. But regardless of how odd things were around Winterfell, he had what he thought was a budding friendship with someone who didn't care one bit about his parentage, and he'd treasure that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Sarella (and Oberyn) suspect Jon's parentage and that's why they're really there lol


	44. Aegon/Jon (Rhaegar Won AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aegon did not care how many had to die if it meant keeping Aemon at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was "Since we are on the theme of people being possessive over Jon Snow, what about taking this quote, “Prince Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna, and thousands died for it.” and amending it to “Prince Rhaegar loved his Jon Snow, and thousands died for it.' or (male character) loved his Jon Snow, and thousands died for it.'"

Their father had loved his Lady Lyanna, and thousands died for it.

Aegon had never thought he'd share something in common with his father. But whether it was Aemon's Stark looks or the draw of his dragon's blood, Aegon could not deny himself his little brother.

Even if that meant breaking the betrothal their father had once created between Aemon and Stannis Baratheon's daughter.

No one else could have Aemon, he would never let it be so. To imagine another touching his brother, knowing his sighs and moans, the contours of his body...Aegon would sooner burn the kingdoms down.

Their sister had already been sold off for an alliance. Rhaenys may insist she did not mind, but Aegon did. If only he had moved faster, if only he had not hesitated to take the power he deserved....He could fix things, he could bring Rhaenys home, but he would need to be careful not to implicate her in anything.

And first he had to assure that Aemon was not similarly lost.

"I swear, brother, you are taking this much too seriously," Aemon insisted, as Aegon and the Kingsguard escorted him to the Maidenvault. 

"I take it as seriously as it is, Aemon. They mean to steal you from me, that I cannot allow."

" _Steal?_ Aegon, it is a marriage, for heirs and alliance, no one is stealing me. I will still be your brother!"

He stopped listening until they reached the rooms that Aemon would be kept in. He'd had trusted servants search it already, boarding up any passageways they might find. No one would slip in and Aemon, foolish, honorable Aemon, would not sneak out.

"Father was a spineless creature after your mother's death. He made these betrothals without care. We have no need for alliances with traitors!"

Before Aemon could speak, Aegon settled his hands on his waist and kissed him, putting every bit of fierce emotion he was feeling behind the gesture.

"I do not care if thousands bleed, little brother, you are mine and I am King."

A few days alone would surely make his brother see reason, he thought, and Aegon needed the time without distractions to make plans for the new war that must be waged. 

Just as so many had warned his father about after the last rebellion, it was those lords who rose again. This time they would not survive breaking their vows, he would not forgive the lies they spewed of his treatment of Aemon or supposed madness. They would end and their propaganda with them.


	45. Jon/Oberyn (Soulmate AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's soulmark comes in and leaves him with more questions than answers.

Half the children of the North lives in anticipation of their 14th year. It was when their soulmarks, if they had one, would appear on one, or even both, of their cheeks. In all the kingdoms, it happened at 14, but each location was different depending on the child's background.

Robb was still mortified his own was on his upper arm, a sign of the Riverlands. Sansa hoped for that, that she might be Southron enough that it would show in her mark.

For Jon...he didn't know what to think. Because sooner than he'd expected his mark had bloomed. Not across his cheek, as a Northman had theirs. Not even on his legs, as he'd secretly expected, knowing only that his father had come back from Dorne with a bad in his arms.

No, his was across his chest. His was where a Valyrian would have theirs.

He was so shocked about the location that he barely even noticed what his mark looked like. Running to Robb was all he could think of doing, but Robb was with Theon (whose mark rode low on his torso) and suddenly Theon knew, too.

It was Theon who pointed out _what_ they were seeing, after Robb and Jon spent minutes panicking and confused. "That's a fucking snake and spear. A _red_ snake and a _orange_ spear." Jon looked at him, eyes wide, and Theon seemed to take pity on him for once. "Your soulmate is the Red Viper, bastard. A prince of Dorne."

That might have been the only thing that made the shocking revelation about his mother fade away for awhile, as Jon processed that. He'd heard of the Red Viper as all children hear of the notorious knights and warriors of their time--in tidbits of information gleaned from the adults, censored and carefully worded. 

"We have to tell father," Robb stated, almost as reluctantly as Jon felt. "Prince Oberyn's pale mark should be fully colored in, now that you've gotten yours. He'll come searching. Father needs to...he needs to be the one to start negotiations."

Negotiations. For a marriage. If Jon wanted it.

The idea made him dizzy. He'd thought, hoped, that maybe his soulmate would prove to be the Smalljon or another Northern lord. Or even one of the merchants who sometimes visited from White Harbor. Compared to the Red Viper, Jon might have even preferred Lady Dustin, as hateful as she was.

Theon sighed, patting Jon on his head as he might one of the hounds. "Don't look so down, Snow, at worst you get to escape this cold and go lounge around in Dorne eating blood oranges and staring at near-naked women." 

He sounded wistful, reminding Jon of the one time they'd been brave enough to ask him about his own mark and the revelation that King Robert wouldn't let Theon wed. Jon knew he must seem ungrateful, in light of that, and nodded, squaring his shoulders.

"Let's go tell father. He can send a raven to, uh...Prince Doran right away." 

He'd need to ask the maester for more lessons on Dorne, as well, he'd never learnt much about the opposite end of Westeros before. And try to figure out what Crownlands lady his father could have possibly met during the Rebellion.


	46. Jon/Margaery (Almost Everyone Lives AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his firstborn child staring up at him with eyes it shouldn't have, Jon Baratheon's entire world falls apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this one like 4 minutes after AO3 went down for maintenance last night and I'm still salty lol I had a great summary and some author's notes and it's all lot now lolol I will never be able recreate something that good.

Jon stared at the babe, feeling sick.

"Your great-grandmother," Margaery rushed to say, gripping their son desperately, "she was a Targaryen. That could--"

He laughed, and the sound was broken, fragile. _Madness,_ he thought, hysteria building, _there's madness in my blood._

"It's not that and you know it's not. That-- _our enemy_ was right."

For almost all his life the deposed King-Across-the-Sea, the Targaryen that had abducted his mother, had claimed Jon was his son. Nothing his mother said or did, none of his father's assurances, had stopped the lizard's insistence. 

And he'd been right the whole time. 

"I'm not a Baratheon. He's," Jon looked at their son, tears coming to his eyes, "he's not. By the gods, Marge, when father--when the King finds out--"

They were at Highgarden, the only boon in this situation. Margaery had asked to give birth in the comfort of her childhood home and his father had given them leave, though reluctantly. The midwife, the maester, all of the servants around them were the Tyrell's. They would put the blood of their liege before Robert Baratheons, especially as many still held some loyalty to the Targaryens--one of the reasons Jon had married the sole daughter of the Lord of the Reach to begin with.

His father--his supposed father--would not be running through the halls ready to murder the dragonspawn in their midst here.

"I will call for my family," Margaery said, finally, her voice the silk-wrapped steel he had grown to love. "Grandmother and Willas will be able to help us in this. If only it was the hair...we could have dyed the hair...."

But of course, when the rest of the Tyrells arrived, after Margaery cleaned up and the wetnurse fed their son, things got even worse for Jon. They wanted his son on the throne, their blood on the throne, and knew that King Robert would never allow it.

Rhaegar, though, could be persuaded. His eldest son was still his heir, but had only two daughters. The general mirth in the room made Jon feel sick.

 _Had his mother lied?_ he wondered as he blocked out his good-family's plotting. _Had she known all along or simply hoped he was Robert's?_

His parents had never gotten along well, but they had worked on it. Robert slept around, but was careful of bastards. Lyanna had hobbies that were frowned upon in a highborn woman, but with the king's full consent. They both loved Jon and mourned the fact she couldn't have anymore children.

Robert had no trueborn children. Only two bastards, as far as Jon knew. Stannis had a daughter. Renly had no children, would never have any children.

The Tyrells were right, this could be the end of Robert's reign.

Jon's stomach lurched and he stood, leaving the room without bothering with excuses. When Rhaegar found out...he could only imagine how much gloating there would be.

From the first moment they'd met, Rhaegar had treated him as though he were a rebellious child. Sometimes perhaps even a fool. 

In the brief battles, when none of the Targaryen loyalists would lay a finger on Jon except...except his brother, he supposed, now, feeling sicker still. His older brother, who enjoyed knocking him around but never seriously injuring him. Who would sometimes go so far as to lecture Jon on his footwork or grip right there in the battlefield. Who had always believed _their_ father about Jon's identity.

In the attempts at negotiation, Rhaegar would insist Jon be acknowledged as a Targaryen and given to his 'rightul' family. It would never happen, no negotiator Robert sent, and certainly not Jon Arryn when he attended, would ever agree to such nonsense. Jon was Robert's heir, his only son, and even if he'd had a dozen more Robert would never make such a concession to Rhaegar.

There were books in Essos that called Jon "Aemon Targaryen" and listed him as Rhaegar's youngest son, legitimized by the rightful king, and called Robert his step-father. He'd seen some of them in his travels, full of morbid curiosity that Uncle Stannis or Uncle Benjen could not dissuade him from. The maesters would be so upset that those were the correct ones.

"Jon?"

He turned, realizing he'd made it to a garden and halfway through its small maze without even noticing. And there was Uncle Renly, looking at him in concern.

"Did something happen? Is the babe...?"

Jon stared. He had no idea what the Tyrells had decided on, if they were going to pretend his son had not lived in order to hide him. And Renly...what side would he fall on? He resented both his brothers and had always been good to Jon, and was so close to Loras, but family, blood, would surely come first.

"I...it's...I don't know," he finally decided on. "They're seeing to him now."

Watching Renly's face crumple at the thought his child could be dying, Jon desperately wished he could trust him. Maybe he'd find out soon. Maybe he'd find out he hadn't lost everyone.

"Can I...can I ask you a question?"

Renly put on one of his calm masks, the sort he war at court, and nodded, motioning Jon to come closer. "Of course you can."

He licked his lips, sitting down on the bench beside Renly and cataloging, despite himself, all the differences between them. If he'd looked just a bit less like his mother no one would have ever believed he was Robert's, surely, he was nothing like Renly and the brothers were so alike.

"Have you...heard anything new about the Targaryens?"

At that, Renly's eyes narrowed. "If you're worried that they might try something, if you have an heir--"

"I, yes, and...other things. I just wanted to know. After the last time I went to Essos, father hasn't told me anything."

The last time, a routine trip to speak with the Iron Bank, and a not-so-routine kidnapping attempt. He'd been ready for _something_ , but not for the Sword of the Morning to try to make off with him. Robert had been spitting mad when he'd returned home and told him. 

Margaery had just found out she was pregnant and had made him promise to stay put until the baby came, playing the part of dutiful wife.

Renly frowned, thinking. He was on the Small Council, but he rarely bothered attending. Most of what he knew came from going on hunts with the King or gossiping with courtiers. 

"Just the usual. They're still slowly conquering Essos from their so-called Valyria and claiming Westeros as theirs. Stannis is worried they'll be making an attempt on the Stepstones soon and we all know Dorne would welcome them with open arms if they did."

Jon nodded. Valyria...the city they'd founded. Restored. If he had to run with his son, if the Tyrells couldn't protect him...he'd go to Dorne and then from there onward to Valyria.

He hated knowing how smug Rhaegar would look when Jon showed up with a purple-eyed babe of his own.

"Thank you, uncle. I should...go check again."

"I'll go with you, Jon." 

Renly's arm around his shoulder gave Jon strength, it was all he could do not to fold into his hold, but he managed to pull away. "No, thank you. I...Margaery doesn't like to be seen when she's not at her best."

The appeal to vanity was enough to convince Renly and Jon was stalking back in the direction he came, heart hammering in his chest.

Margaery was still meeting with her family, but their son had been placed in their rooms. He was a tiny thing, with a few strands of dark hair and those horrible eyes. 

"What should we call you?" he muttered to the boy, who could only stare up towards him.

They'd been planning on Steffon for a boy, but Jon could hardly do that, now. Rickard, perhaps, would not be a claim to a family he did not have, but...but if the boy were to be a Targaryen king....

He could be like Jon, he supposed, with a name from both sides of the family. But even now that he knew it wasn't a mad lie, he still didn't like that idea for himself, let alone his son. He did not want another child to feel like he was feeling now, so torn over...everything.

"Rickard for now," he muttered, finally. "Or perhaps it should be Torrhen?"

Margaery's mirthless laugh let him know she had entered.

"We're to pretend like he's sickly, that no one can see him."

"It will give us an excuse not to return when we normally would have," Jon agreed, shoulders slumping at the thought of the Red Keep, of home.

"...Willas has a way to send word to King Rhaegar."

"You're always so careful not to call him 'King' at court. Was that just for show?"

" _Jon_. Have I ever done anything to make you think I'm disloyal to you?"

He looked up, eyes narrowing, searching her words for the Tyrell doublespeak she was so good at. "Have you suspected all along? That you were marrying a dragon, not a stag?"

She hesitated just long enough for him to have his answer, and she knew it. "You wouldn't believe me if I had told you. And what would you have done, if it were some other woman who gave birth to a Targaryen babe? If it was someone like Sansa or Myrcella?"

That, he knew, could have been a disaster. 

"Was this just your grandmother's plan or was it Rhaegar's?"

Again, she hesitated, and he felt sick. As crown prince, he was used to people trying to use him, to manipulate him, but he had never suspected it would go this far.

"You are the mother of my child," he said, finally, "but do not think I will forgive you for this."

There were tears in her eyes to match the tears in his, but he could not care. His entire life had been a lie and it seemed like almost everyone around him had known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine this as Rhaegar surviving the Trident but it still being a brutal defeat for the Targs. He returns to the Red Keep and just basically ignores his father and takes the rest of his family to Dragonstone. Then after King's Landing falls they go on to Essos. Since he's an adult and a proven leader/warrior, and has like half of Westeros wanting him back as king, he gets much easier support than Viserys and Daenerys did.
> 
> Kinda like with the Blackfyre Rebellions there's wars and battles on and off throughout the kingdoms, but Robert doesn't have a firm enough hold to punish the loyalists the way he'd like. Meanwhile part of gaining enough power and leverage to take back his throne is Rhaegar re-founding Valyria and conquering parts of Essos from it, recreating the freehold, basically.
> 
> For the Baratheon stuff: the timeline was different, like when and in what order, and Jon wasn't conceived until maybe a month before Robert came to "free" Lyanna. So she basically had 'celebratory sex' with him in order to make sure if she had conceived with Rhaegar that no one could know and...it worked. Jon was "premature," but it was a really hard pregnancy on Lyanna and she almost dies, so no one really thinks anything of it. Jon has dark hair, so he's not as obviously not-Baratheon as Cersei's kids and also Robert tried to cut back on bastards (I imagine he mostly sleeps with professionals) for Lyanna's sake.


	47. Jon/Satin (Future Fic)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is won and plans for the future are being made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, reminder to everyone that I'm _writing these drabbles for free_. I am not a servant nor am I just some sort of machine made to spew out drabbles that you personally want. I am getting zero dollars for my time and effort.
> 
> I have a life, I have work and social activities, I have medical issues, I have travel, I have WIPs, I have drabbles that _I_ actually want to write. I have my own preferences, headcanons, and characters I like writing about and characters I dislike writing about. 
> 
> Sometimes I have been inspired to write off of other people's prompts, but I'm getting real close to deleting any comment (or ask) that looks the least bit like a prompt.

"The Watch is no more," Jon pointed out. "Every member has been pardoned, and almost all of us deserve it." 

It was one thing to say that every member of the Night's Watch was free to leave, free to build a new life for themselves, when so few of them survived. Jon wasn't sure what Aegon would have decided, if their numbers had been greater, if they hadn't been almost entirely made up of free folk and volunteers by the end.

"I suppose you're going to King's Landing?" Satin's voice was calm, polite, infuriating.

Jon nodded. "I am. My brother--the King has asked me to join his Small Council. He think I can't do much worse with the Gold Cloaks than I did with Watch, I suppose."

The joke fell flat and silence followed. Satin was twisting a bit of the bedding around his fingers, still so delicate looking after all this time. There were calluses hidden underneath, Jon knew, and scars under his sleeves. Marks of survival they all had.

"What do you want me to say?" Satin finally let out, hands falling to his sides. "That I'm happy for you? That I wish you the best? I do. You know that."

"But you _look_ miserable!"

Satin stood, letting out a strangled noise, and Jon fell back a few steps, watching carefully. He didn't not fear _Satin_ , he simply feared _everyone_ , now, the memory of knives sinking through his flesh keeping him on his toes no matter who he was with.

But Satin knew that, had long ago accepted that, and Jon knew whatever had gotten to him had nothing to do with the way Jon flinched at the slightest touch or tried to never let anyone close by behind him.

"How could I not be? Considering?"

"Considering what?!" Jon's voice was near a growl. "Just tell me what the problem is! Is it King's Landing? Is it me?"

"Yes! Of course it is! You're going off to King's Landing and I'm...I'm doing what? Settling in the Gift as some _farmer_?"

He blinked, mouth falling open, then closing. "I...I thought you wanted to stay beside me?"

Now Satin was looking at him in surprise, brows furrowed. "You're a Prince, you'll be living in the Red Keep and serving your brother, the _King_."

"Do you think Aegon cares what company I keep? His Hand was in love with our father!"

"You know people will care! It's not like I can go with you!"

Jon strode closer, keeping his hands up where Satin could see them. "...I _want_ you to. I don't care what people think. They're already going to have a field day with me in the South--a bastard prince, a Night's Watchman, raised by a man who the loyalists saw as a traitor. We _won_ , Satin, and _we survived_ , and I'm not throwing away my happiness again for other people's fragile beliefs."

"...You...you actually want me with you?"

"Aye, of course I do." He set his hands carefully on Satin's waist, staring into his eyes. "You were here for me when I was at my worst. I...I don't know if I could have recovered, without you. It's my turn to take care of you, now. Come South, watch me swelter in that snakepit as you dress yourself in pretty clothes, and eat whatever delicacies you desire, and make all the ladies jealous."

It was Satin who leaned in, his lips pressing against Jon's, his beard a familiar tickle against Jon's face. The kiss was quick, near-chaste, but Jon still found himself flushing afterward from the emotion behind it.

"You promise? That we can live together? That you won't regret bringing me?"

"I swear, by the old gods and the new, by the lord of light and the many faced god, and whatever the hell the Valyrians worshipped." That made a smile tug at Satin's lips and Jon felt something relaxing inside of him. "I told Aegon already, made it clear it was a condition of my going there. Lord Connington had...some advice. We can do this, Satin, I promise."

When Satin did agree, Jon almost crowed with his delight. He'd had no idea how he'd survive down there if Satin had said no--surrounded by strangers, his heart trapped in the North. Now he didn't have to find out.


	48. Oberyn/Jon (Soulmate AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Chapter 45. Oberyn's mark is finally clear enough to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly might break this off into something like Trinity where it's a bunch of short 'drabble' like chapters along this theme lol I've got...way too much lore written up about this silly soul mark system in this verse.
> 
>  **Early warning** to remind everyone that I stop adding new chapters at Chapter 50 and create a new fic in this series, instead. Subscribing to the series will get you updates for when that new fic starts.
> 
> ETA: I've now moved these off into a separate thing, [A Dragon In Wolf's Clothing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20466194). This is where all future stuff for the verse will go (already has a third drabble not in this collection)

When Oberyn turned fourteen, his mark had appeared. He'd watched Doran greet his own with enthusiasm and Elia greet hers with vague acceptance, but for Oberyn his soulmark was more an oddity than anything else.

He knew everyone had one, but he'd been almost hoping he wouldn't, that he'd never be tied down like that. Thankfully, among the highborn and in Dorne, soulmarks weren't the end of his social endeavors. 

Especially because his was dull--grey and vague. The mark of the older of the matched set. Doran thought it was for a Stark, but Oberyn wasn't so sure. There was something off about it that didn't really fit with any of the pictures of the direwolf in the books they had or on the flags he'd seen.

He spent years checking his nearly every morning, throwing back the covers and staring at that dark spot on his thigh, but it never took shape into more than it was. And eventually he just stopped looking altogether.

It was Ellaria who noticed when it finally came through. They'd been lounging together on the bed, reluctant to fully wake for the day, and she'd twisted around, planning on perking him up. Her face was only a few inches from the mark when she noticed something was off about it and her sudden gasp drew Oberyn out of his doze.

There, where before had been little more than a fuzzy outline, was a wide dragon's head in profile. The colors had barely changed, still grey, but with white added in, now, making a lovely contrast against his dark skin.

"It's not a direwolf," he muttered, stroking the mark. 

No, it was a dragon...mimicking a direwolf.

He cursed and rushed from the bed, nearly tripping over the bedding, and then the clothing they'd strewn around the room the night before.

"What is it?" Ellaria demanded, unnerved, and he forced himself to slow down, to calm down.

"We have to speak to Doran. This is...it's huge."

They found Doran up already, discussing something boring Oberyn didn't care about. His brother only looked slightly put out as Oberyn dismissed everyone in the room but Hotah. Then he set his foot between Doran's legs and hiked up the garments he was wearing.

"It's not a direwolf. It's a dragon."

Doran took much less time to figure things out than Oberyn did. " _He's_ not a direwolf."

"One of you is going to explain this." Ellaria had her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes and Oberyn shivered in desire at the sight.

"My soulmate, Doran thought it might be a Stark, a direwolf for a Stark. Instead it's...a dragon in Stark colors. Like a bastard boy claimed by Lord Stark said to look just like him."

Ellaria's eyes widened. "You think...Lyanna Stark's child?"

They nodded. 

"We knew she was in Dorne, she was supposed to meet my men in Starfall...but after Elia's and her children's death, the kingdom was thrown into chaos and when she never appeared...." Doran grimaced. "To know the boy has been alive this whole time, a bastard in the _North_."

"We _must_ bring him home." Ellaria hated the idea of any bastard suffering, but now she was especially concerned for her paramour's soulmate. "Oberyn, let the girls know we'll be going to Winterfell. I'll make arrangements."

Oberyn balked. "We don't even know if--"

"Of course he'll want to come with us, no soulmate of yours could be a fool."

That wasn't what Oberyn was going to say, but it was a good enough point. He wasn't going to abandon his soulmate to the North.


	49. Tormund/Jon (Rhaegar Won AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Aemon gets taken by wildlings.

Aemon had seen little but the side of his horse for what felt like hours. The inspection of the Gift and New Gift for possible farming was supposed to be a relatively easy task. Summer was still upon them, he had a contingent of his own guards, along with Stark guards his uncle had sent and a few men of the Night's Watch who were participating in the project.

That the wildlings would decide to come down in a large enough raiding party to take out said guards had seemed impossible.

Except here was Aemon, tied to his own horse, being taken to gods knew where.

This sort of thing never happened to Aegon. He was always sent to festivals where he got a little too drunk and slept with a lord or three, he didn't get kidnapped.

And poor Uncle Ned would take the blame. He'd be lucky if Rhaegar didn't burn the whole North down on principle.

When they stopped, Aemon readied himself for a fight or...something. He didn't know what he could do, trussed up as he was, but he'd surely get an opportunity. Maybe not as the wildlings lifted him wholly from the horse and into the air. Not when they dumped him on the cold, hard ground, but...well, Aemon could wait. He was the patient brother.

"This is a kneeler prince?" the voice from above him sounded skeptical.

Aemon twisted around, seeing first boots, then legs, until he'd finally gotten into some control and managed to get up onto his knees. He looked up, past long muscular legs in tight trousers, up, past an equally muscled torso showing through a half-laced vest, and up still, to the red-bearded, rugged face of a wildling. 

_Oh, no_ , he thought, suddenly feeling a bit more sympathy for his older brother, _he's hot._

"Have you seen many princes, to make a judgement?" he replied, glaring.

"I've seen Starks, and that's what you look like. Not like the normal prissy Southron sort, more like the look of the First Men."

Normally, Aemon took great offense at being reminded he didn't look the part of a Targaryen, but the way this wildling spoke made him think it might be a better thing he took after his mother. 

"I am of Stark blood and Lord Stark will not take it well, that you took his nephew." The wildling frowned at him, then glanced back at the other wildlings around them. 

Then he let out a jarring laugh. "If we feared _Lord Stark_ , we wouldn't be raiding in the South, now would we?"

He...had a point. "Well, what do you want me for? Ransom?"

"That was the plan." The big wildling bent down and took Aemons chin in a large hand, inspecting him. "But now that I see how pretty you are, I have a few other ideas of what to do, first."

Aemon felt his stomach drop. This felt like the beginning of all sorts of bad decisions.


	50. Aegon & Jon (Vampire AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aegon knows immediately that Jon is his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in the same universe as the Roose & Jon vampire AU that I think is in Part I. Basically there's a few vampires families in Westeros and the Boltons and Targaryens are two of them.
> 
> Since this has reached 50 chapters, I will now be moving onto [Part III](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20471405/chapters/48575294#workskin). All new drabbles will now be posted in Part III.

The moment the young man called Jon Snow walked into the room, Aegon knew that the rumors were truth--that was his younger brother.

His scent was mired in some unknown clan, but underneath that was the blood of the dragon. He had wondered how his brother could have survived, it was one of the main reasons that he had doubted this man could even be his brother, but now he had his answer. A clan of vampires had survived in the North and had somehow found his brother.

It would take years, possibly, to undo their mark on Jon Snow. Already, studying him, Aegon could see what must have been signs of that clan--pale eyes, in particular, not the purple they should have been.

"Aren't you going to say anything? ...Your grace?" Jon finally said into the silence of the room, his face cold and hard as Valyrian steel.

Aegon offered a charming smile, purposefully letting his fangs show through. "It is not everyday that one meets his younger brother, I was just savoring the moment."

Unnerved, Jon looked away. "You're not going to keep denying it?"

"Why would I? _How_ could I? The moment another familiar with our family scents you they'll know." Aegon's expression darkened. "And attempt to use you against me. Is that what the Northern clan that raised you planned to do? Is that why you've finally graced me with your presence?"

Jon's hands clenched into fists. "They didn't send me, I came on my own. I've spent half my life hearing about our family. I was...I was curious."

Aegon remembered what it had been like for himself, before he met his aunt and uncle. He had felt so alone. Even if half of those with him were also vampires, the longing for his rightful clan had never gone away.

"Little brother," he said, liking the way the phrase felt in his mouth, "I am so glad you're home." 

He would need to start immediately with indoctrinating Jon into the clan, but he knew it would be worth it. When he'd found out he had a sister, and she had died, he'd been heartbroken. But now he had a brother, one he would never let die.


End file.
